The Fazbear Files
by ClockworkAssassin
Summary: You know the original story, but can you solve a remixed mystery? A murderer strikes at a family pizza restaurant, and Detective Jane Peterson takes on what quickly becomes the biggest case of her career. The hunt for answers pits her against colorful suspects, paranormal happenings, and a ruthless psychopath who knows her every move. Who, or what, is the Fazbear Killer?
1. A26, A27, A28, A29, B17

**A26 – THE INTERROGATION OF SUSPECT ONE IN THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[When the tape is turned on, there is a loud, sudden crack, like a gunshot. Then the film, a black-and-white surveillance camera, shivers slowly into view.]_

 _[We see a white interrogation room, with a single white table and two chairs. In one chair sits the interrogator. He is an alert, wary man, lean and wiry like a hungry wolf; his dark hair is slicked back against his head, and he holds himself high, clean-shaven and well-groomed. His white shirt is perfectly pressed, his dark pants dustless and freshly laundered. His dark eyes glitter as he studies the man sitting opposite him, taking in every detail with a surgeon's precision, as though dissecting him with his gaze; he is the picture of incisive effectiveness, never a word or movement wasted. When he speaks, it is sharp and ringing, with a faint Czech accent.]_

"Name."

 _[The man being interrogated looks up with hooded eyes, and we see that he is slumped over, tired, a broken man in every sense of the word. There are thick purple rings under his eyes, and his hands shake as he clasps them in his lap; he clearly has not slept in days. He is rough-shaven and unkempt, with tangled hair and wrinkled jacket and jeans. He looks like he just rolled out of bed and is quietly longing to return there and never get up. When he speaks, it is low, halting and rusty, like he hasn't used his voice in a while.]_

"Antonio Benedicto."

 _[The interrogator studies him.]_

"Italian?"

"Italian-American."

 _[The interrogator makes a tiny note on his clipboard.]_

"Occupation?"

"Security guard." _[Antonio stares at his shoes.]_ "Former."

"Where?"

"You know where."

 _[The interrogator makes another note.]_

"When did you get the job?"

"When I lost the last one."

"Which was?"

"Shoe salesman."

"And before that?"

"Video clerk."

 _[The interrogator laughs softly.]_

"You've had a lot of odd jobs, Antonio."

 _[Antonio is silent. The interrogator makes another note.]_

"When was your last psychological evaluation?"

 _[Antonio stares at him.]_

"Is it relevant?"

"If we're to believe your story, yes."

"That's personal information –"

"You were diagnosed with PTSD a few years ago, is that right?"

 _[Antonio's voice takes on a sharp edge.]_

"That doesn't affect anything."

"History of child abuse at the hands of your mother, multiple hospitalizations before the age of eight –"

"Shut up."

"– auditory and visual hallucinations –"

" _No_."

"– seizure disorder and accompanying fainting disorder –"

 _[Antonio slams his hands on the table, a thunderclap of sound. The interrogator jumps; obviously he hadn't been expecting his weary, sleep-deprived subject to move so quickly. When Antonio speaks, it is with unmistakable venom in his voice.]_

"Enough."

 _[They stare at each other for a long time. Finally the interrogator speaks, softly.]_

"Very well. We won't get into your medical history today, Antonio. Sit down."

 _[The man sits back, still eyeing him.]_

"How did you get the job? Who hired you?"

"The manager."

"Name?"

"You're asking me questions you already know the answer to."

"Answer anyway."

 _[Antonio glowers at him.]_

"Jason Quincey."

"What was he like?" _[The interrogator makes small notes on his pad.]_

"Normal enough. Friendly. Liked to shake my hand. He was honest about the job – told me it was boring and pointless, but he needed someone to do it. Legal reasons, he said."

"And you agreed to that?"

"I was desperate and out of work. What do you think?"

"Fair enough." _[A tiny check mark.]_ "What was your first day like?"

"I was on day shift. Easy enough – just stand against a wall and make sure no one hurts themselves. The kids were fine. Little loud, gave me a headache, but fine. I figured this was a good enough job until I could find a better one."

"And the third day?" _[Scribbling quietly.]_ "The day of the first incident?"

 _[Antonio is silent for a moment.]_

"How many medications were you on at the time?"

"Stop asking those questions."

"It's relevant, Antonio. It'll help the case if you're honest about it."

 _[Long, reluctant pause.]_ "Antipsychotics. A couple antidepressants. I don't know. Sometimes I lose track."

"How many in total?"

"Six, maybe?"

 _[More scribbling.]_ "What time did you come into work?"

"Six thirty-eight. I was a few minutes late. Car wouldn't start. I went into the building ready for Quincey to bite me off for it. He always chewed me out for being late, said he wasn't paying me to snooze my alarm."

"And?"

"He didn't say a word. I thought he seemed a little jumpy, on edge. Said to just be quiet and do my job. _Keep an eye on things,_ he said. I remember his exact words. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't say anything. Just went to my usual corner."

"He claims you fell asleep."

"I didn't fall asleep." _[Antonio's voice sharpens again.]_ "He's a liar. I never fall asleep on my shifts."

"He says you didn't have your coffee, and you were tired, even more tired than usual. You might have let your eyes close for a moment –"

"No. _No._ He's a fucking liar. I didn't sleep."

"If you say so." _[A mark on the clipboard.]_ "When did you hear the scream?"

"Eight-thirty. Eight-thirty exactly. I know because the band started playing. It plays every half hour on the dot."

"Where did the scream come from?"

"The back table." _[Antonio drags a hand across his face, clearly struggling to stay awake.]_

"If you want to rest for a few hours –"

"I'm fine. I'm fine." _[He recovers himself.]_ "I heard the kid screaming. I looked over to see what was going on."

"And?"

"Freddy was over at the table –"

"Who?"

"You know. The bear. The animatronic."

"Its name is… Freddy?"

"Freddy Fazbear. Don't you read your own damn case files?"

"Of course I do. Forget it." _[The interrogator sighs.]_ "What was… _Freddy…_ doing?"

"He must have gone over to give the kid pizza, or something. You know how they let the robots walk around, interact with the kids. I always thought it was creepy. Anyway, the kid was screaming because he wasn't leaving, just staring at her. Like his path got stuck."

"What did you do?"

"I walked over. We had a protocol for what to do if the robots glitched out. The robots are programmed to reset if you shine a bright light in their eyes – did you know that? Safety feature."

"Is that what you did?"

"Yup. Took out my little pocket flashlight, flashed it in his eyes. He blinked, and walked away. Back to normal. Told the kid everything was fine, Freddy just got a little confused, he wasn't going to hurt her." _[Antonio heaves a slow breath.]_ "I could never have imagined…"

"You didn't know."

"Of course not. How the fuck could I have known?"

"When did the next incident happen?"

"Six that night. I was ready to clock out in an hour, but had to get all the customers out first. Went around cleaning up trash and serving the last stragglers. A little girl was at one of the tables talking to Freddy. I knew he'd been acting funny all day – nothing scary, just a little odd. He'd have those staring fits, and kept wandering off into rooms he wasn't supposed to. You know how they're all on paths, programmed routes and all that? Well, he kept going to rooms that weren't on his path, that he wasn't supposed to know about. Back rooms, storage rooms. Weird stuff."

"Odd."

"Yes, it was. So I kept an eye on him more than the others."

"You watched him all day?"

"Not all day. Just – kept an eye on him. Like Quincey said to do."

"So you saw it happen."

"Yes." _[Antonio groans.]_ "God help me. I thought the nightmares were bad _before…_ "

"Tell me what happened."

"The girl was telling Freddy a story, or something. I don't know. You know how kids are. I walked past to dump some streamers in the trash, and I heard her ask Freddy why he had eyes."

"Odd question."

"Yes. I looked over. Didn't know what she was talking about. I mean, obviously the robots have eyes, but just the plastic eyeballs, nothing unusual. Freddy looked normal to me, so I said to the girl –"

"Do you remember your exact words?"

" _Why did you say that?_ Something along those lines. And she looked over at me and said the creepiest fucking thing I've ever heard in my life."

"What did she say?"

 _[Antonio takes a slow breath.]_ " _He has human eyes."_

 _[The interrogation room is silent. Finally the interrogator speaks.]_

"Are you sure that's what she said?"

"I'm prepared to swear in court."

"You weren't hallucinating."

"No."

"Did you know what they would find, when they took the robots apart?"

"Of course not. How could I ever have known? I'd only been there a few weeks. I didn't – I didn't fucking know. You have to believe me. I was just the security guard."

 _[He looks almost pleadingly at the camera.]_

"God help me, I was only the security guard."

 _[The footage ends, and the tape clatters quietly to a stop.]_

 **A27 – THE INTERROGATION OF SUSPECT TWO IN THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[The tape starts right away, clicking merrily along. The interrogation room wavers into view, this time occupied by a short-haired, slight interrogator. She looks small, but there's a cool composure to her, a confident power over the situation. She calmly shuffles her papers, and then looks at her subject as one might an interesting specimen on a slide. When she speaks, it is with a measured, probing voice.]_

"Quincey, I presume."

 _[Jason Quincey smiles cautiously. He is a lanky, pimply man in a stained white Led Zeppelin T-shirt and ripped jeans, slung easily across his chair like a king in his throne; he seems perfectly calm, but there is a tension in his shoulders that reveals he knows why he is here. He wears a Freddy Fazbear baseball cap turned backwards, and when he reaches to scratch a zit on his nose, we see a skull and crossbones tattoo on his elbow. When he speaks, it's relaxed, but with a slight edge, a hesitation in his words.]_

"You got it."

"You have a very interesting resume." _[The woman peers at her papers.]_ "Tattoo artist, then small-time theater actor, then restaurant worker, and finally restaurant manager. Quite the career trajectory."

"What can I say?" _[He manages an awkward laugh.]_ "I'm a man of many talents."

"A jack of all trades, indeed. That seems to be a pattern in this case – odd jobs."

"You've spoken to Antonio, then."

"We're speaking to all your employees."

"Him most of all, I bet."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I hired him a couple weeks ago. Security guard." _[Jason scratches his nose again; it seems to be a nervous habit.]_ "I didn't know about his mental health problems. His medical file is thicker than War and Peace."

"Employers aren't allowed to discriminate on the basis of medical diagnoses, unless they put clients in harm's way."

"Of course not. I wasn't discriminating. Just didn't realize he was a little…" _[Jason makes suggestive hand gestures.]_ "Out of touch with reality."

"So you think he's inventing stories. To defame your restaurant."

"I didn't say that. But he's got mental problems. Who knows what goes on in that head. I'm not implying anything, of course."

"Of course not." _[The woman studies him.]_ "Tell me about your restaurant."

"It was a good place. Nice place. Everyone loved it. The kids loved it, and they were the ones who mattered. They don't care if the décor's a little rough or the security guards look like they've been slamming whiskeys all day, they only care about fuzzy animals who sing songs and making their parents buy them pizza and toys. My business counted on making them happy, and that made me feel good every day."

"How many total reported incidents were there at your restaurant, before the murders began?"

 _[He coughs awkwardly.]_ "Reported to the police, you mean."

"Yes."

"Five."

"How many were fatal?"

"None. One involved an injury, but he recovered. No one was seriously hurt until the murders started. I ran a safe and happy restaurant, I can promise you that. Not the terrifying death trap the papers would have you believe."

"I see." _[She makes a note.]_ "Describe the incident that involved the injury."

"Bonnie grabbed a kid's arm while he was blowing out his birthday candles. The poor kid struggled so much the fingers put dents in his arm. He was fine, just had some bruising. We fixed the robot and settled out of court for emotional damages."

"Nothing else happened before the murders?"

"Nothing at all." _[He scratches his nose.]_ "Not a damn thing."

"Did you know about the health code violation?"

"With the robots? Yeah, I got slapped with that bill. I cleaned the robots, and they got off my back."

"There was talk of _blood and mucus."_

"Horseshit. Media bullcrap. They just got a little smelly, that's all. They're old robots."

"You don't think that was related to the discovery."

"No. Of course not. How could it be?"

"One of your employees claims otherwise."

"Of course Antonio claims otherwise." _[Jason spits on the floor.]_ "That crazy bastard. He'll tell you the robots grew fangs and demon tails if it'll get him off the suspect list."

"You can't discount his testimony."

"I'm going to. Put that down in your records. Antonio Benedicto doesn't know what the hell he's talking about. He's so hopped up on antipsychotics he wouldn't know an animatronic from an armchair. Put _that_ down in your little tape." _[He scowls at the camera.]_ "Don't believe a word he says. Take it straight from me. I hired the guy, didn't I?"

"Why did you hire him, if you thought he was so unfit to work?"

"Because I couldn't find anyone else. You know how the economy is."

"No, I don't. I don't understand how you can call him insane and removed from reality, and yet feel perfectly safe letting him guard your restaurant while you're gone and watch over children. That seems like criminal neglect on your part, doesn't it?"

 _[Jason gapes at her, speechless. She smiles, and makes a calm note on her pad.]_

"I recommend you be more truthful with me from now on, Mr. Quincey. Your livelihood depends on it."

 _[With a soft whir and clatter, the tape ends.]_

 **A28 – THE INTERROGATION OF SUSPECT THREE IN THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[This tape takes a while to get going, but finally the interrogation room whispers into view. The Czech interrogator is back, his hair glimmering with oil as he turns a page in his folder.]_

"You seem nervous, Miss Hudson."

 _[The woman laughs nervously. She is a petite, dark-haired woman with a young, soft face; she can't be a day older than twenty. She is dressed shoddily, wearing a faded orange college sweatshirt and sweatpants, drumming her fingers on the table as she looks around the room. She is obviously anxious and uncomfortable; the pits of her sweatshirt are already darkening with sweat.]_

"You'll have to forgive me. I've never been a suspect in a murder before. My life usually isn't this exciting."

"Name, for the record?"

"Kate Hudson." _[She refocuses.]_ "Former night guard."

"Tell me about the job."

"It wasn't much. Easy money, to help me pay tuition. Physics degrees at private colleges aren't cheap, you know. All I had to do was sit in the security office at night, read the paper, watch some cameras. Occasionally had to jigger a camera if it cut out, or cycle the power, or clean a monitor if the day guard spilled something on it. Otherwise, simplest job in the world. A monkey could have done it."

"Did you know the day guard?"

"Yes, Antonio. I saw him at staff meetings. He was a nice guy – a little haunted, but nice. I hope he's not involved in any of this."

"How long was your shift?"

"Midnight to six. Always." _[She chuckles nervously.]_ "I would say the graveyard shift, but given the circumstances…"

"When did the incident occur?"

"Two months in. I was in the office as usual, reading about stocks and studying for my calculus final. The cameras were fine, the power was on – all normal." _[She takes a slow breath.]_ "I was never a brave woman. I should make that clear. The only reason I was okay sitting there in total darkness for six hours was because I didn't believe in ghosts, and I was sure nothing would happen to me."

"And then something did."

"Yes. That night, around one in the morning, I heard a noise. The first noise I'd heard in two months. And that alone was terrifying. I'd _never_ heard a noise before. You have to understand, the restaurant was dead empty at night, except for the spiders and moths. I'd been scared out of my skin more than once by a moth landing on one of the cameras. But this – this was no moth, and I knew right away something was going down."

"What was the noise?"

"It sounded like a clatter. Like someone had dropped a pan in the kitchen. I remember that distinctly. I looked at the kitchen camera, and saw that the picture had gone out. And then I got really scared."

"I imagine you did." _[The interrogator is watching her closely.]_ "Did you investigate?"

"Of course not. Fuck no. I'm not some stupid bitch in a horror movie. I shut my doors, hunkered down and hyperventilated like a madwoman as I thought about what could have made it. Maybe the chef had balanced a pan funny on the counter before he left, and it had chosen that moment to fall off and scare the balls off me. Gravity, or something. Or maybe someone forgot to turn off a robot, and it had wandered into the kitchen. And that thought made me check the stage camera."

"What did you see?"

"I saw what I was terrified I'd see from the moment I took the job. One of the animatronics was missing. You know – the yellow one. Chica, or something."

"Right." _[The interrogator makes a small note.]_ "What did you do then?"

"I connected the dots, obviously. There was an animatronic wandering around that someone forgot to power down, and all I had to do was find a way to shut it down – or get the hell out of there. At this point I was really scared, and I wasn't thinking straight. I chose the second option."

"You ran."

"Of course I ran. I mustered all my courage, took my coffee and newspaper, and sprinted out of that security office like it was on fire. I never dared to look into the kitchen as I ran past – just got out of there. I shut the restaurant door, locked it, and called Quincey to tell him what was going on. Woke the guy up, but I knew I had to report this so he wouldn't get the scare of his life when he came to open the place in the morning."

"Did he come to help?"

"Yes, he drove over right away. He was there in ten minutes. He took my key, unlocked the door, and walked inside. I didn't hear what he did, but he came back out five minutes later and told me the problem was solved, and to finish my shift."

"And what did you do?"

"I refused, obviously. He had never told me the robots would move and scare the hell out of me. I asked him, how could I ever feel safe there again?"

"And what did he say?"

"He looked at me, and then he said, _you're fired._ I said, _good._ And that was that."

"You didn't question it?"

"Of course not. I was still freaked out, and I wasn't thinking right. Just walked to my car and drove off, and never went back. I found another job the next day."

"So you've never been back to the restaurant."

"No. It scared me then, and now… well, you know what happened." _[She looks up at the camera.]_ "We all know."

 _[The tape clatters quietly to a stop.]_

 **A29 – THE INTERROGATION OF SUSPECT FOUR IN THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[The tape snaps and crackles for a while, gradually revealing a picture. The interrogation room we've come to know well, and a third new interrogator, a woman with short blue-blonde hair and piercing green eyes. She stares intensely at her subject, calculating, measuring and mathematically studying every motion and thought. When she speaks, it is with a thin British accent.]_

"You're late, Mr. Borsovick."

 _[The man coughs into his sleeve. He is a thickly built, muscled man, shaped like a battering ram; when he rests his hands on the table, they are corded with callouses. He is dressed in a thick jacket with a toolbelt around his waist, and smells strongly of motor oil and grease. When he speaks, his voice is low and gravelly, with a thick Russian accent.]_

"It's Borsovich. Karl Borsovich."

"Forgive me. You understand that you're here to give a statement of some importance."

"I didn't ask to be the one who found them." _[He coughs again, a low, hacking sound.]_ "I'm just a mechanic. I fix cars. Didn't ask for the nightmares. Poor little things."

"Tell me who called you in."

"The manager. That scrawny baseball cap kid." _[He fumbles in his pocket, then hastily draws back.]_ "You sure you don't allow cigarettes in here?"

"Quite sure, Mr. Borsovich. Please give your testimony."

"The kid called me in to look at his robots. His fuzzy animal things. I never got animatronics, but I knew how to fix them, so I came."

"Had you been to the pizzeria before the call?"

"No, never. I read about it in the papers, but I don't have kids, so there was no reason to go." _[He coughs.]_ "I never liked pizza."

"Was Quincey there when you came to the restaurant?"

"Yes. He had to be there, to open the door for me. I came after hours, at eight. Per his instructions." _[He touches his pocket again, unconsciously searching for a cigarette and again remembering he isn't allowed one here. He moves his hand away.]_ "He told me the robots had been acting up. Asked me to take a look at them, to satisfy the legal team, but he wouldn't let me open them up. Said he was afraid I'd damage them – they were old, he said."

"Did you believe him?"

"They looked old to me. The teddy bear was beat to hell. I'd never seen such ancient machinery still working. Almost a miracle, it was." _[He mutters something in Russian.]_

"What did you say?"

"Never had a good relationship with God, not since he took my sister away. Always thought something was wrong with his head. And what I found in those fuzzy little robots… it only confirmed what I'd always known. That our God in heaven is a psychopath." _[He snorts derisively.]_ "When that kid went into his office, I popped Freddy open to get a look at his guts. Didn't like some smarmy little American boy bossing me around."

"And you found them."

 _[He grimaces, and looks at the camera.]_ "Do I have to say it?"

"For the record."

"I found them." _[He shakes his head bitterly.]_ "Poor little things. All mangled and chopped up by the gears and servos, hidden away and rotting in their tombs. I'd never seen… it was a horror I had never known until that moment. And I hope to our crazy, sadistic, madman God I never know it again."

"What condition were the bodies in?"

"Old. I could tell. They'd been there a long time. But I knew what I was looking at, and the smell…" _[His hand goes to his pocket for a third time, and he visibly tugs it away.]_ "It was the smell of death."

"Do you think Quincey knew?"

"Of course he knew." _[He scowls.]_ "He must have known. That slippery American bastard wouldn't let me lay a hand on them, and look what was hiding in there. Why else would he try to keep me out of their guts unless he knew what was tangled up with them?"

"Maybe he was just worried about liability if you broke them."

 _"Liability._ Pah." _[He smiles grimly.]_ "You're full of more bullshit than Gorbachev. If Jason Quincey is behind these murders – if he laid one greasy finger on those poor little souls I found… he'll have a whole lot more to worry about than _liability_. The God I don't believe in will make sure of it." _[He reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a cigarette; before the interrogator can stop him, he lights it and takes a long draw, sighing with relief.]_ "Now if you'll excuse me, I need one hell of a smoke."

 _[The tape darkens and fades away.]_

 **B17 – THE PERSONAL DIARY OF DETECTIVE PETERSON, LEAD INVESTIGATOR OF THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[The camera flicks on, and a young, blonde-haired woman balances it carefully on her desk; it's evidently a cell phone. She arranges it until satisfied, then clears her throat and looks confidently into the camera, testing different expressions and poses. When she finally speaks, it's with a commanding, even voice, carrying like a newscaster's.]_

"The investigation into the Fazbear murders continues with the testimony of four extraordinary witnesses."

 _[She shows the camera an arrangement of manila files, one for each suspect they have just interviewed. She sets them down on the desk and opens the first, showing the picture inside.]_

"Antonio Benedicto. Twenty-eight-year-old Italian-American male with a history of mental illness, more medications than you can shake a stick at, and a rough childhood. Struggling to get by with a veritable cornucopia of small jobs, one of which brought him to a pizzeria that would entangle him in a serial murder. Troubled doesn't even begin to describe him, but is he really the killer we're looking for, or just a harmless man fighting his demons?"

 _[She moves to the next file.]_

"Jason Quincey. Thirty-two-year-old American male, but looks and acts like he's seventeen and has an attitude to match. Raised rich, but rebelled against his parents and dropped out of college to become a tattoo artist. His career spiraled downward from there, and it left him running a pizza restaurant with a history of dangerous incidents that he refuses to take a modicum of responsibility for. Including the latest, our string of murders. Obviously, he is our number one suspect."

 _[The next one.]_

"Kate Hudson. Twenty-year-old American female, and a college student majoring in physics and computer science. Young, bright and with lots of potential, a whole life ahead of her. Unfortunately, she took a job that drew her into a mess she'd struggle to get free of. Our least likely suspect, but we're keeping an eye on her. She acted a bit too nervous in the questioning room for our liking."

 _[And the last one.]_

"Finally, Karl Borsovich. Thirty-five-year-old Russian male, immigrated here when he was fourteen. Runs a mechanic business downtown, and gets called in for plenty of odd jobs. This seemed no different, until he opened up the robots he was supposed to be fixing and got a nasty surprise. Probably a victim of a sad circumstance, but he's gruff enough about this whole thing to raise some eyebrows."

 _[She sets the files aside and rests her hands on the desk, taking a slow breath.]_

"The clock is ticking. If I can catch the Fazbear killer before he hurts anyone else, then children all across the world will sleep safer in their beds."

 _[She closes her eyes.]_

"There's only one question left to ask: is he one of these four people in the files I have in front of me? Or is he someone we haven't even thought of? Are there more victims we don't know about? Where is he hiding now, and what's his next move?"

 _[She looks fiercely at the camera.]_

"My name is Detective Jane Peterson, and I intend to find out."

 _[She leans forward and taps the screen. With a quiet pop, the log ends.]_


	2. B18, C3

**B18 – THE PERSONAL DIARY OF DETECTIVE PETERSON, LEAD INVESTIGATOR OF THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[The camera focuses on Jane Peterson, leaning back in a chair with her hands steepled against her chin. She is obviously deep in thought. A faintly accented male voice issues from behind the camera.]_

"What's your verdict, Detective?"

"I'm piecing together a timeline. Either some of these people we just interrogated are lying, or these latest events happened _very_ close together." _[She massages her temple, as though willing the four conflicting testimonies to sort themselves out.]_ "Let's think about Antonio first. He claims he'd only been working there for a few weeks, yet Kate Hudson, who had worked there for two months, recognized him from a staff meeting."

"Not inconceivable. Those timelines could overlap."

"Yes, but here's the problem. If we assume that both of these people are honest, we therefore assume that the timelines align leftwise, and Antonio and Kate were hired very close together, with Kate leaving her job a few weeks after Antonio did – she says she stayed for two months, while he only stayed about one. That means the roles of day _and_ night guard were vacated very suddenly and around the same time, necessitating two quick, impulsive replacement hires. Why else would you hire a man with such a pronounced difficulty in managing everyday life and a young college student with no experience whatsoever? Quincey must have needed fast substitutes while he sought out real candidates to fill the void."

"And maybe the same person was working both the day and night shifts, and quit, leaving them both open. So Quincey decided to hire two different people this time, to keep it from happening again."

"I think we're onto something here. We need to figure out why these security positions were so important to Quincey, why they needed immediate filling when there was a vacancy. Look into who worked the day and night shift before Kate and Antonio. Maybe we can pull them in for questioning."

"On it." _[Typing is heard.]_ "Do we know who took on the day shift after Antonio left?"

"Presumably Quincey did it himself. We'll have to ask him to be sure. If he can be trusted, at any rate."

"What about the, er – discovery? The one that started all this in the first place?"

"The coroner placed their time of death around a few weeks ago, which is our window of action. Our problem is that we have so many people either at or around the restaurant during that time, and all of them seem to be mentally unstable, lying about something, or both." _[Jane presses her fingers to her forehead.]_ "I need to think about this. There's got to be an answer that makes all these pieces fit together."

"Mull it over, Sherlock. I'll look up those employment records for you."

 _[Jane smiles.]_ "How have you been, Eddie?"

"Just fine." _[He chuckles.]_ "Kids are good. Devon started walking today, and Lily made me a finger painting that can only be described as a smashed tomato fighting another tomato to the death. Obviously I told her she was a Picasso in the making."

"Oh, that's so cute. You'll have to let me come over and see them sometime. I haven't seen them since Christmas."

"They'd love to see you." _[Eddie whistles.]_ "Bingo."

"Did you find our night guard?"

"Yes I did." _[He types rapidly.]_ "His name is Dresden Lockwood. Twenty-four, recent college graduate at the time he took the job."

"No direction, so he went for the first place that would take him," Jane surmised. "Why did he leave?"

"This is interesting. He didn't quit – he was fired. _Hygiene concerns."_

"What does that mean?" Jane frowned. "We just hypothesized that the security job was important to Quincey, and he desperately needed someone to fill it. Seems odd that he'd fire a security guard over something as trivial as hygiene concerns. Do we have an address? Let's see if we can bring him in."

"Looking that up now." _[More typing.]_ "He lives downtown. We could send a car over."

"Good idea. And in the meantime…" _[Jane closes her eyes.]_ "Do you think Jason Quincey is the killer?"

"I have two theories. Either he's the killer, and he's a bumbling fool who showed us his whole hand from the start and doesn't know what the hell he's doing – or he's not the killer, but a shady man who's got a lot to hide but no motive to murder. He's just covering up for someone else."

"Do you believe that nonsense about haunted animatronics?"

 _[Eddie laughs.]_ "Judging from the derision in your tone, you obviously don't."

"Well, I usually entertain paranormal explanations as amusing sub-theories, but in this case… children are dead. They're _dead,_ Eddie, and right under our noses, with more on the way if we're not quick to stop whoever's killing them. Why are we talking about ghosts when there's a real, dangerous psychopath out there who targets our most vulnerable, innocent population? It's just not the time or place for conspiracy theories."

 _[Eddie sobers.]_ "You're right. Of course you're right. I'm sorry. I'm trying to find some humor in this, because otherwise I might start crying."

"Me too, Eddie." _[Jane leans back in her chair, sighing heavily.]_ "Me too."

 **C3 – INCIDENT FILE #842909**

 _Location: Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, Location #42, franchisee Jason Quincey_

 _Date: August 3rd, 19XX_

 _Description: Animatronic "Bonnie" malfunctioned and grabbed the arm of a five-year-old male child during the child's birthday party. When child struggled, the animatronic tightened its grip, bruising child's arm. Required manual turning off of the animatronic to release the child. Child suffered minor abrasions._

 _Verdict: Fault of franchisee Jason Quincey for inadequate inspection and maintenance of animatronics. Regular inspections will be performed monthly starting in September as part of liability deal to avoid major legal action. Franchisee was charged for one count of negligence, but charge was dropped after franchisee settled with victim for physical and emotional damage out of court for an undisclosed sum._

 _Reported and signed by: Chief Inspector Markus Diekever_

 _Date of signing: August 18th, 19XX_

 _Incident status: Closed_


	3. A30, A31, B19, C2

**A30 – THE INTERROGATION OF SUSPECT ONE IN THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[The tape rolls into motion, and the interrogation room appears. Antonio Benedicto sits staring at his shoes, not meeting the interrogator's eyes. It's the slick-haired Czech man again; he is paging through medical records, licking his thumb as he goes.]_

"It'll be easier for everyone if you're honest, Antonio."

"I have been."

"You have a history with this company, don't you?"

 _[Antonio's eyes widen, almost imperceptibly. Clearly he wasn't expecting that information to be found.]_

"Those records were sealed. How did you get them?"

"Do you want to tell me what happened at your birthday party?"

"I – I don't –"

"You were attacked by an animatronic when you were a child, at the original location – before the franchising, before Jason Quincey. Your therapist believes it caused your PTSD. You've described nightmares full of teeth, and eyes."

 _[Antonio closes his eyes.]_

"It was a long time ago."

"You didn't think that was worth mentioning, in a case about children being stuffed into animatronics?"

"I didn't – I have a hard time talking about it. It's not relevant. It's not."

"Tell me about it."

"No."

"Antonio, it's in your best interest to cooperate. You don't want to keep being a suspect, do you? Tell us everything you know about Fazbear Entertainment and you can walk out of here a free man."

 _[Antonio visibly struggles with himself.]_

"It was… a freak accident. Just some stupid bullying kids…"

"How old were you at the time?"

"Five. It was my fifth birthday." _[He swallows, mustering his courage.]_ "I was bullied a lot, as a kid. There were some boys at school who used to make fun of me, call me names. They made fun of my accent, pretended I was a mobster come to arrest them. Do you know how many ' _It's-a me, Mario!'_ jokes I've heard in my lifetime?"

"Plenty, I imagine."

"Dad made me invite them to my party anyway. They'd never been my friends, but that day, they went too far. They lifted me up and brought me up to the stage, where the robots were performing. Thought it'd be fun for me to give Fredbear a kiss."

"That was the name of the old animatronic, correct? Before the diner was bought out?"

"Yes." _[He shakes his head tiredly.]_ "Good old Fredbear. His servos had been acting up, but it wasn't until that day… they said it was an electrical malfunction. A tragic accident that was no one's fault. No one could have stopped it."

"You don't believe that."

"No. Of course I don't fucking believe it. You think I believe that horseshit?" _[He pulls down the neck of his jacket, and for the first time we see the faint bite scars on his neck, lines of teeth marks.]_ "That fucking robot left me with all kinds of scars. I haven't had a sound sleep since."

 _[The interrogator looks at the marks silently.]_

 _[He utters a loud, humorless laugh.]_ "Is it any wonder I'm crazy if _this_ is what I remember about the place?"

"Why did you work there as an adult, then? I'd think you would avoid it."

"I don't know." _[He tugs his collar back up.]_ "Sadistic of me, to put myself anywhere near those robots after what happened, but… I learned when I was little that they couldn't be trusted. That _no one_ could be trusted. Maybe part of me wanted to keep those robots from hurting anyone else." _[He smiles wearily.]_ "I never could have imagined I'd get involved in another Fazbear scandal. I told myself it would be just another job, and I could use it to forget what happened there. But here we are."

"Here we are." _[Quietly, thoughtfully.]_ "You know Jason Quincey has been trying to discount your testimony."

"Let him try. I've got plenty more to say, and I'm not shutting up anytime soon." _[He looks defiantly at the camera.]_ "Fazbear Entertainment has a lot to hide. And I'm here to pull back the curtain."

 **A31 – THE INTERROGATION OF SUSPECT FOUR IN THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[The interrogation room. Karl Borsovich sits with a lit cigarette in hand; the interrogator has apparently given up on trying to stop him from smoking. He takes a long puff, blowing out smoke.]_

"Why am I still here? I've told you what I know."

"Not everything, Mr. Borsovich." _[The interrogator folds her hands, studying him.]_ "How did you know?"

"Pardon?"

"You knew how to open up the animatronics. According to Quincey and his engineers, that's a highly complex procedure, involving precise, specific knowledge of the machinery. Yet you knew how to do it right away, and did it quickly enough that Jason Quincey had barely walked back into the room when you popped Freddy open."

"I know machines." _[He takes a drag off his cigarette, but his eyes never leave hers; there is a new edge in his voice.]_ "All kinds of them. How is this relevant?"

"You must have been familiar with the animatronics, or at least their general design. Are you sure you have no prior history with this company?"

 _[His eyes glitter as he studies her.]_ "Very sure."

"So you don't know anything about Fazbear Entertainment, or their history. Nothing beyond what Quincey told you."

"No."

"I want you to word this very carefully, Mr. Borsovich. You have no prior history with the Fazbear brand or its animatronics whatsoever?"

"None."

"I see." _[Her voice goes cool.]_ "Why did you lie about having children, then?"

 _[He stiffens.]_

"I thought so."

"Listen…" _[He takes a puff of his cigarette, and now we can see his hands shaking.]_ "When I said I had no history with the company… that may have been a slight exaggeration."

"Of course it was."

"Don't read me the file. Please."

"Either I read the file, or you tell me. Someone has to say it."

 _[He closes his eyes, obviously in great pain.]_

"…My daughter was a beautiful little girl. Her mother didn't let me see her very often – divorce, you understand. A very rough divorce at that. We… fought a lot, but she gave me one good thing in our marriage, and that was my little girl."

"What was her name?"

"Cecilia." _[He lights another cigarette; his hands are shaking so badly he can barely raise it to his mouth for a draw.]_ "She was beautiful. My everything. I took every visitation chance I had to see her. She was my little angel."

"What happened that day?"

"It was three years ago. Her mother took her to another kid's party, at the place in Illinois. I wish I could have been there, to stop her, to keep an eye on her, _something…" [He grimaces.]_ "It still tears me up inside, that I wasn't there. I needed to be there."

"She went outside the restaurant."

"Yes. No one knows why. She was such a bright kid – maybe she saw something outside and went to take a better look. Who knows. The cameras caught the dark car pulling up to her, and a man in a coat and mask got out and dragged her inside…" _[He grits his teeth.]_ "I lost her that day. My little angel went to heaven."

"You were a suspect for quite some time."

"The estranged husband." _[He barks out a laugh.]_ "Of course I was the prime suspect. I was the easy answer. But it wasn't me – I can promise you that. The madman up there who calls himself God, he knows it wasn't me."

"Did they ever find the perpetrator?"

"No. It was just one of the Fazbear cold cases." _[He looks for somewhere to throw his cigarette, and the interrogator reaches under the table and emerges with an ashtray, pushing it towards him. He drops the cigarette into it, brushes ash off his oil-stained fingers, and rummages in his pocket for a fresh one.]_ "One of those unsolved, nasty little Fazbear murders that no one cared about. The police investigation was pathetic. They closed it with no suspects faster than you could say _cover-up._ " _[He takes out a new cigarette and lights it up with a quick, practiced motion; it's clear now that this is a frequent habit.]_ "I knew something was fishy, but what could I do? I was the divorcee with a Russian accent and a nicotine problem. The police didn't treat me like a grieving father, they treated me like a fucking Soviet spy."

"You think it was a cover-up, then."

"Of course I do." _[He takes a slow pull from the cigarette, closing his eyes.]_ "Fazbear Entertainment shoved it under the rug like a burning bag of shit, and tried to make everyone forget about it. But I can't forget. I won't ever forget."

"Was Jason Quincey the manager at that location?"

"No. It was some other guy. Forget his name now."

"It might be important. Can you try to remember?"

 _[His brow furrows.]_ "I think it was Todd, or Trevor, or something. Something with a T."

"Thank you. That's helpful." _[She makes a note.]_ "Did you become familiar with the animatronics through that event?"

"After it happened, I spent months studying that place, trying to figure out what happened. How this could have happened. You could say I was an amateur detective. I learned a lot about the robots in that process." _[He coughs.]_ "I suspected he might have… hidden her… the way these kids were found…"

"But he didn't."

"No. They – they never found her."

"So it wasn't a murder."

"It was a murder." _[He crushes his cigarette against the table.]_ "It was a _murder,_ and don't you fucking forget it."

 _[He exhales slowly.]_

"I sure as hell can't."

 **B19 – THE PERSONAL DIARY OF DETECTIVE PETERSON, LEAD INVESTIGATOR OF THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[The camera sits on the desk as Jane and Eddie recline in their chairs, pondering what they've just heard from the second round of interrogations. Eddie finally speaks, slowly.]_

"This case just got a lot more interesting."

"Well, we've certainly learned more about two of our suspects." _[Jane closes her eyes.]_ "One of them was attacked by an animatronic as a child, and is paranoid about them as a result. The other lost his daughter to a Fazbear killer three years ago, maybe the same one we're after. We've got some history here after all."

"My question is, why didn't this come out in the first round of interrogations? Obviously these were significant events in their lives."

"Trauma does strange things to people. Antonio reacted by trying to block out the memory, locking his demons away. Karl reacted by taking up smoking and turning his emotions off. Obviously neither of them wanted their real history with Fazbear to emerge in this investigation, but I don't think it's because they're the killers trying to hide their motives. I think they just didn't want to remember."

"But I don't get it. Why would Antonio keep working at a place when he has such a terrible history with it? And why would Karl go in to look at animatronics at the place his daughter was murdered?"

"I don't know about Antonio, but I think Karl wanted to catch them doing something wrong. He wanted to get revenge on the company that wronged him… oh. Hm." _[Jane looks intrigued; an idea has suddenly occurred to her.]_ "That's a pretty strong motive for uncovering some hidden bodies, wouldn't you say?"

"You're not suggesting he put them there."

"All I'm saying is, he hid something in the interrogation, and that something is a very powerful motive. That makes me suspicious of what else he could be keeping from us. We need to question him further. And did you get Lockwood in yet?"

"About that…"

 _[Jane hears the hesitation in his voice, and raises an eyebrow.]_ "Dead?"

"No, but he might as well have been. When I sent the patrol to pick him up, he barricaded himself in his flat screaming about demons and ghosts."

"Oh, dear. He's one of the crazy ones." _[Jane sighs.]_ "Well, crazy or not, we need his testimony. Bring him in kicking and screaming if you must, but bring him in nonetheless. Get someone on it."

"Yes, ma'am." _[He opens his laptop and starts typing.]_ "Any news on cause of death?"

 _[Jane blows out a breath.]_ "I know you've got kids. If you don't want to hear…"

"I can handle it. I went through the academy, for God's sakes."

"Stabbing. All of them. They bled out."

 _[He makes a small, broken sound.]_

"If you want to go home and see your family –"

"It's fine." _[He takes a steadying breath.]_ "I should be desensitized to this now, but when it's with kids… I'll hug them extra hard when I get back. Same as I did on the Jensen case and the Whitecastle murders."

 _[Jane reaches to pat his shoulder.]_ "We'll catch him, Eddie. I'll see that bastard in the electric chair if it's the last thing I do."

"I think that's called tempting fate, Detective."

"Fate doesn't care about me. It doesn't care about anyone." _[She closes her eyes.]_ "I'm a Catholic, for crying out loud, and yet I can't help thinking that Karl Borsovich is on to something. What kind of God could allow something like this to happen?"

"I don't know." _[Eddie reaches to turn the camera off.]_ "But he's got a lot of explaining to do."

 _[There's a soft click, and the picture fades away into darkness.]_

 **C2 – INCIDENT FILE #817429**

 _Location: Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, Location #42, franchisee Jason Quincey_

 _Date: February 27th, 19XX_

 _Description: Animatronic "Foxy" malfunctioned onstage and frightened five children. No one was physically harmed, but the parents of one child requested the filing of a report and sought compensation for emotional damages._

 _Verdict: Blame was not definitively determined. Franchisee Jason Quincey settled with the afflicted family members quietly for an undisclosed sum, and agreed to retire the Foxy animatronic until further notice, promising to repair the animatronic and make a thorough examination to determine the cause of the malfunction. Follow-up was not made to determine if promise was kept, and a final cause or statement on the incident was never released by the Fazbear corporation. The incident is considered minor enough to close until further notice._

 _Reported and signed by: Chief Inspector Markus Diekever_

 _Date of signing: March 4th, 19XX_

 _Incident status: Closed_


	4. D1, C1

**D1 – UNOFFICIAL TIMELINE OF EVENTS IN THE FAZBEAR MURDERS, VERSION #1, CREATED BY LEAD INVESTIGATOR JANE PETERSON AND DETECTIVE EDUARDO REYES**

January 18th – Franchisee and restaurant manager JASON QUINCEY opens a local branch of Freddy Fazbear's pizza and begins hiring employees. He buys four animatronics, FREDDY FAZBEAR the BEAR, CHICA the CHICKEN, BONNIE the BUNNY, and FOXY the FOX. (WHO DID HE BUY THEM FROM? EDDIE, FIND PURCHASE RECORDS?)

January 19th – Recent college graduate DRESDEN LOCKWOOD is hired as DAY AND NIGHT GUARD after a five-minute interview. QUINCEY describes him as "cheerful" and "trustworthy." The two become good friends.

January 22nd – Line chef THEA MULDOON is hired for FOOD PREPARATION.

February 2nd – INCIDENT C1 occurs.

February 27th – INCIDENT C2 occurs, FOXY malfunction. FOXY is retired for safety reasons.

August 3rd – INCIDENT C3 occurs, BONNIE malfunction. One child injured. QUINCEY agrees to have the animatronics inspected once per month as part of litigation deal. (WHO WAS INSPECTOR? EDDIE, CAN YOU FIND RECORDS?)

September 5th – INCIDENT C4 occurs.

September 19th – INCIDENT C5 occurs. Last reported incident before murders begin.

October 1st – DRESDEN is fired as DAY AND NIGHT GUARD for "HYGIENE CONCERNS" (?). QUINCEY seeks out two fast hires to fill the void. DRESDEN becomes paranoid and insane, locking himself in his flat (?)

October 2nd – College student KATE HUDSON is hired as NIGHT GUARD after a brief interview with JASON QUINCEY.

October 3rd – Unemployed ANTONIO BENEDICTO is hired as DAY GUARD after an interview with QUINCEY, in which he claims he disclosed a good deal of his extensive medical history, but did not disclose the attack on him as a child.

October 5th – ANTONIO witnesses an unreported incident where FREDDY stares at a child and behaves strangely. When he asks QUINCEY to explain, the man brushes him off. (IS IT POSSIBLE HE IMAGINED IT?)

October 17th – ANTONIO is given an informal reprimand for repeatedly showing up late. QUINCEY threatens to fire him if he doesn't get his act together.

November 25th – ANTONIO is fired for lateness and sleeping on the job. QUINCEY hands him his last paycheck and points him out the door. ANTONIO leaves and does not return.

December 14th – KATE witnesses CHICA moving around at night. Terrified, she flees the security office. When she reports it to QUINCEY, she is fired on the spot. She claims she has not been back to the restaurant since.

December 17th – HEALTH CODE VIOLATION. Animatronics are reported to smell and leak strange fluid, and parents complain. QUINCEY is ordered to clean the robots, and does. (LINKED TO DISCOVERY OF BODIES? IF SO, THIS MIGHT HELP US NARROW WINDOW OF KILLINGS… SMELL SUGGESTS DECOMPOSITION IS OCCURRING)

December 28th – Discovery of the bodies. Mechanic KARL BORSOVICH is called in by QUINCEY to look at, but not open, the robots. He opens them anyway and discovers the cadavers hidden inside. The restaurant is closed while employees and associates are called in for interrogation and questioning.

December 30th – Coroner releases autopsy report. Bodies are between two and three weeks old and bled out from multiple stab wounds to the torso. Badly damaged from animatronic parts and gears. This places our MURDER WINDOW between DECEMBER 9th and DECEMBER 16th. At this time, KATE and ANTONIO were no longer employees, and BORSOVICH had not yet been called in. The only employees working during this time, and thus the only ones who had clear access to the robots, were QUINCEY and MULDOON. However, BORSOVICH had a strong motive to get revenge on the company where his daughter was murdered and extensive knowledge of the robots, meaning he is also a primary suspect. It is also possible that ANTONIO or KATE made copies of their work keys to get back in the building after their firing, if one of them is our killer. In short, we have five suspects and no answers.

Final verdict: Unclear as of yet. We need to question QUINCEY, MULDOON and BORSOVICH as to their whereabouts during the murder window, and get testimony from LOCKWOOD. Can we find the manager of the restaurant where BORSOVICH's daughter was killed? T last name? Eddie, see what you can find. Might be a dead end, but it's worth investigating. It's one of the only leads we have.

 **C1 – INCIDENT FILE #812880**

 _Location: Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, Location #42, franchisee Jason Quincey_

 _Date: February 2nd, 19XX_

 _Description: Food poisoning incident, in which at least two children were sickened after consuming contaminated pizza at the restaurant. Determined to be the result of poor handwashing protocol on the part of the employee responsible for food preparation, Thea Muldoon._

 _Verdict: Health code violation C002 (Minor Handwashing Violation). Fee of $100 was paid in full by Jason Quincey, and handwashing protocol was more thoroughly enforced for all employees at the restaurant. Because there were no further illnesses and concrete steps were taken to prevent future occurrences, the incident is considered closed until further notice._

 _Reported and signed by: Health Inspector Claire Fischmann_

 _Date of signing: February 3rd, 19XX_

 _Incident status: Closed_


	5. A32, A33, A34

**A32 – THE INTERROGATION OF SUSPECT TWO IN THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[Jason Quincey looks considerably more nervous than before, possibly because Chief Inspector Jane Peterson is the one interrogating him this time. She calmly flips through her files, checking her information.]_

"You understand that you've put us in a difficult position, Mr. Quincey."

 _[He chuckles nervously.]_ "I don't know what you mean."

"Your restaurant only operated for less than a year, yet it came into contact with at least two people with an extensive and dangerous history with the company. Two employees with a very good reason to want you behind bars." _[She looks at him, trying to discern the true intentions behind the pimples and the awkward smiles.]_ "Did you know about Antonio and Borsovich?"

"Know what?" _[He scratches his nose.]_ "They were just my day guard and the one-time mechanic. I didn't care about their history as long as they did their jobs."

"Well, you should have. Because now we have a veritable zoo of people in and around Fazbear's at the time of the murder, a whole lot of people with grudges who had access to the animatronics. Including two people we've overlooked until now, but are coming in today for questioning. You'd better hope they don't say anything incriminating about you, Quincey."

"What would they say?" _[He laughs awkwardly, but we can see how fearful he's getting under Peterson's searching stare; he keeps twitching, like he wants to jump out of his chair and run away.]_ "I've got nothing to hide."

"Nothing except an extensive history of accidents, injuries and deaths at your parent company that you're determined not to fully explain."

"Look, I don't know what you're implying, but anything that happened at other locations? It wasn't connected to me. I just opened a local chain. Whatever happened at my chain, sure, I'll own up to that – but I wasn't associated with any other locations, and I'm not liable. That, I can promise you."

"Of course." _[She opens a dusty file with a coffee stain on the cover.]_ "So I suppose you wouldn't know anything about where you purchased the animatronics."

"I got them from the company. They came standard with the franchisee deal. You want the purchase records or something?"

"I'd like those very much, Jason Quincey. Along with a full statement of every person who ever held a key to your restaurant, employee or otherwise. _Full_."

 _[He pales slightly.]_ "It was just me, Antonio, and Kate. Antonio opened for me sometimes, and Kate needed to get in for the night shift. No one else ever had a key to the place."

"No one else?"

"No one else." _[He scratches his nose.]_ "I mean –"

"Yes?"

"I let my brother in once, after hours. I forgot something at the place and my car was acting up, so I sent him to get it for me. I let him borrow my master key."

"You let him borrow your _master key?" [Peterson gapes at him, clearly stunned at the sheer incompetence of this man.]_ "What day was this?"

"I dunno. December 13th, or somewhere. I remember because I'd just bought someone a birthday present."

 _[Peterson writes this down, shaking her head.]_ "Letting him use your master key might have been the worst mistake you've ever made, Jason Quincey. And that's saying something."

"Hey, don't go accusing my brother, all right? He wouldn't have done anything in there."

"Are you sure?"

"Very sure. You can ask him – I'll give you his number." _[He fumbles for his cell phone.]_ "He's harmless, Inspector, really."

"I want his number anyway. And can you tell me anything about the inspections?" _[Jane flips through her folder.]_ "After Incident C3, you promised to perform monthly inspections on the animatronics. Someone must have been hired for that, but I don't see any records of them, or their reports."

 _[Quincey clears his throat awkwardly.]_ "That fell through."

"Fell through."

"Yes."

"Tell me this, Quincey. If you knew about the bodies, why did you do such a terrible job keeping them hidden?"

"I didn't know about them! How the hell would I have known? I don't control whatever psychopath is ripping up kids at my restaurant. I'm not God."

"No, you're not, Mr. Quincey." _[She closes the file.]_ "And you'd do well not to forget it. I think I'll be seeing your brother very soon."

 **A33 – THE INTERROGATION OF SUSPECT FIVE IN THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[The interrogation room. A small, willowy woman sits quietly as Eduardo arranges his files on the desk. She seems interested in Eddie, and when he looks up she hesitantly speaks in Mexican Spanish.]_

"What country?"

 _[Eduardo smiles and responds in his own lilting dialect.]_ "El Salvador, but I've been spending time in Argentina to see my relatives."

"That's wonderful." _[She switches back to English.]_ "My girlfriend is from Mexico, and I've been learning Spanish from her so I can meet her family. It's a lovely language."

"I think so too." _[He chuckles.]_ "Could you introduce yourself for the record?"

"Thea Muldoon." _[She seems to be at ease with him; he is much less intense than Peterson, and is treating her more kindly, since she is not a major suspect.]_ "Former line chef at the – you know."

"When did you start working at the restaurant?"

"January 22nd. I was hired a few days after it opened."

"What sort of things did you cook?"

"Pizza, of course. And I prepared some of the side dishes, like the fruit cups and vegetable sides. Hardly anyone ever ordered those, though. I'm sure you can imagine why."

"Were you reprimanded after the handwashing violation? Incident C1?"

"Yes." _[She smiles sheepishly.]_ "My bad. I got a bit lax. There were no more incidents after I straightened up my act. I take full responsibility for it."

"Did you go to culinary school?"

"Yes, I'd only recently graduated when I was hired. I wasn't a star student, but I did well. Knew I would have to start small, so I went with a local pizzeria. I wanted enough experience to get hired at the Italian place downtown." _[She sighs.]_ "Of course, with all this murder business, it's going to be hard to find a job after this."

"I'm afraid so." _[Eddie opens a file.]_ "What did you think of your boss? Jason Quincey?"

"He was… fine. I didn't talk to him much outside the interview. I didn't care for the way he talked to me."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he – he harrassed me a bit. You know. Women in the workplace, and all that. He would make some unwelcome advances every now and then."

"Did anything escalate?"

"No, he would just make comments, ask me out, try out rude pick-up lines. I didn't like it, obviously, but there wasn't much I could do except tell him to knock it off."

 _[Eddie makes a note.]_ "I'm sorry to hear he harrassed you. There are a lot of men out there who think they're entitled to make those kinds of comments."

"Especially since I wasn't interested in him at all. I mean, I'm a lesbian, for crying out loud." _[She laughs wearily.]_ "And I've had a steady girlfriend for a year now. I'm so off the table that the table doesn't know what to do with me. Yet he'd keep wandering into my kitchen and tell me my lipstick complimented my ass. What does that even mean?"

"Well, hopefully you won't have to deal with that anymore." _[Eddie shakes his head.]_ "The more I learn about Jason Quincey, the less I like him."

"You don't think he did this, do you?" _[She looks at him worriedly.]_ "Don't get me wrong, I dislike him, but I don't want to think he could do something like this. I hope whoever it is, you catch them soon."

"I hope so too." _[Eddie sighs and closes his notebook.]_ "We all do."

 **A34 – THE INTERROGATION OF SUSPECT SIX IN THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[This interview doesn't take place in an interrogation room, but rather a mental hospital. A sweating man is seated on a sterile bed in a straitjacket with a nurse at his side, hair plastered to his forehead, looking feverishly around as though expecting to be attacked at any moment. Peterson stands at the foot of the bed with her notebook at the ready.]_

"Mr. Lockwood, do you feel up to giving a statement?"

 _[The man shakes his head violently.]_ "They're out there."

"Who's out there?"

"The demons." _[He moans.]_ "The demons."

"I don't follow."

"They come at night. They awaken at night. They want to play!" _[He rocks back and forth feverishly.]_ "Hm, hm, death death death!"

 _[Peterson looks helplessly at his nurse for guidance. The nurse smiles understandingly.]_

"He's always like this. You won't be getting much of a statement from him."

"How did he get this way?"

"He had a mental breakdown when he was fired from his job. At that pizza place. He's been like this ever since."

"Did Quincey say why he was fired?" _[Peterson takes notes.]_ "His official record claimed it was hygiene concerns."

"Well, he'd started to break down a bit before the firing. Maybe Quincey was just trying to find a polite reason to let him go."

"Maybe." _[Peterson writes this down.]_ "What are the demons he's yelling about?"

"No one knows. He's fixated on them. He draws pictures and claims they'll make me understand, but they never make any sense."

"Can I see some of those pictures?"

 _[The nurse opens the drawer of his nightstand and hands Peterson a stack of childish crayon drawings.]_ "Have a look."

 _[She frowns, paging through them.]_ "He's just drawing animals. A bear, a bunny, a chicken, a fox. And another bear. What do these… oh! Of course!" _[She scribbles something down rapidly.]_ "The animatronics."

"The what?"

"Nothing." _[She folds up the papers and tucks them into her coat.]_ "Do you mind if I try something a bit odd?"

"If you think it'll help."

 _[Peterson takes out her phone, opens YouTube, and taps on a video. A happy jack-in-the-box melody starts to play.]_

 _[Lockwood screams like he's on fire.]_ "THE DEMONS! THEY'RE HERE!" _[He thrashes violently, trying to get free of the straitjacket. Peterson watches bemusedly as the nurse grabs him under the armpits and frog-marches him away.]_

 _[Quietly, she makes a note in her pad. Under her breath, she murmurs.]_

"Demons…"


	6. B20, A35, E1, B21

**B20 – THE PERSONAL DIARY OF DETECTIVE PETERSON, LEAD INVESTIGATOR OF THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[Peterson and Eddie sit at a table with cups of coffee, piecing together the new evidence.]_

"So Lockwood thinks the animatronics are demons." _[Peterson stares at the ceiling, thinking hard.]_ "But at the time he worked there, the murders hadn't occurred yet. What reason would he have to fear them?"

"I think it's odd that the animatronics were acting strangely even before someone hid the bodies in them. Before they were tampered with. Remember the Foxy incident?"

"Right. But why? Even if you believe that nonsense about haunting, they woudn't have been haunted yet." _[Peterson closes her eyes.]_ "Unless…"

 _[Eddie raises an eyebrow.]_ "Unless?"

"We know there was another murder. Three years ago, Borsovich's daughter. There could be even more that this company is covering up. We need to get into some records, Eddie. Old ones."

 _[He looks at her, visibly dismayed.]_ "Paperwork?"

"Paperwork."

 _[He sighs and rises from his chair.]_ "I'll get us more coffee."

"Get me a court order for Fazbear Entertainment to release their documents, that's what I'd rather have. And a chai latte while you're at it." _[Peterson leans back in her chair, closing her eyes.]_ "We've got to figure this out, Eddie. Who knows how long this sicko has been out there – who knows how many lives are depending on us now."

"Well, on the bright side, we finally got that purchase order from Jason. We know where the animatronics came from." _[Eddie rummages through his desk and pulls out a folder.]_ "Care to take a look?"

 _[Peterson brightens at once.]_ "You tracked them down? Where are they from?"

"Some robotics company in Ohio I've never heard of." _[Eddie hands her the folder.]_ "Want me to track someone down for comment? They've got to have PR we can talk to."

"Maybe. I want to know how these things were built, and why they had enough room to fit someone inside. Who would design a robot that way?" _[She opens the folder and studies the contents.]_ "It's almost like they wanted someone to fit inside them."

 _[Eddie stares at her for a moment, frowning as he ponders this. She looks up.]_

"What?"

"They wanted someone to fit inside…" _[He gasps and suddenly jumps out of his chair, sprinting out of the office.]_ "I have to go!"

"Eddie, wait! Where are you going?"

"I think I just figured something out! You check out that robotics company, I'm following this lead!"

"Okay." _[Peterson sighs and closes the folder.]_ "I guess it's up to me. Let's go interrogate one more suspect before we dig into robot parts, shall we?"

 **A35 – THE INTERROGATION OF SUSPECT SEVEN IN THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[Ben Quincey fidgets awkwardly as Peterson arranges her paperwork. He isn't a small man, but he has poor posture, and it makes him seem half his size; he is unshaven, with patchy clothes, but his eyes are a bright, unsettling blue that seems to pierce through the detective. She stares back at him, undaunted.]_

"Bernard Quincey?"

"Ben, usually." _[He wipes his face on his sleeve; his chin is shiny with sweat.]_ "Sorry. I've never been in a police station before. I'm all shaky."

"This shouldn't take long." _[Peterson wastes no time in asking her most crucial question.]_ "Did your brother, Jason, let you borrow his key on December 13th?"

"Yes." _[He dabs anxiously at his face again.]_ "He forgot something, so he asked me to grab it and gave me the key. I was only in the restaurant for a few minutes, I swear. The cameras probably caught me, you can check the footage –"

"And what was it you were grabbing for him?"

"His wallet."

"You grabbed his wallet." _[Peterson stares, obviously not believing him.]_ "How on earth does a money-loving man like Jason Quincey misplace his wallet? How did he drive home without it?"

"I don't know, don't ask me! I just grabbed it for him. I swear. You can check the cameras –"

"We'll be checking the cameras, Ben, don't worry." _[Peterson scribbles rapidly on her notepad.]_ "Did you drive back and return the key, once you left?"

"Yes, I gave it right back. And the wallet, too."

"Where is that key now, and the wallet?"

"Jason's got them. You can dust them if you want, they'll have my fingerprints on them –"

"I don't need you to reassure me, Ben Quincey. I can do my own investigating."

 _[Ben falls silent, still twitching nervously. Peterson studies her notepad carefully; she's wearing an impressive poker face, but the suspicion glimmers in her eyes. She doesn't like the way he's acting, and constantly justifying himself to her. It's odd, and he's odd.]_

 _[She opens a manila folder.]_ "Let me see if I have this right. Your brother was a college dropout, and you were a high school dropout. You were both self-professed disappointments to your parents."

"They wanted Jason to be a banker, or a lawyer. They thought I'd make a good doctor." _[Ben laughs awkwardly.]_ "Two weeks of high school taught me otherwise. I'm dumb as a rock, Detective, really. We both ended up in dead-end careers."

"What's your career, then?"

 _[He avoids her eyes.]_ "Not the one my parents wanted. Let's leave it at that."

"Did you ever resent your brother's success?"

"No, of course not. He ran a dumpy restaurant and made less than I made growing pot in my shower – not that I did that." _[He adds this hastily, seeing the look on Peterson's face.]_ "He wasn't this amazing success like everyone said he was. I never envied him. Never have."

"I should think you especially don't envy him now." _[Peterson closes her file.]_ "That's all for today, Ben. But don't leave town. We'll call you in if we have any more questions, and I think we will very soon."

"I'm happy to answer them, Detective." _[His expression says otherwise.]_

 **E1 – UNOFFICIAL LIST OF SUSPECTS AND DOCUMENTATION IDENTIFIERS, VERSION #1, CREATED BY LEAD INVESTIGATOR JANE PETERSON AND DETECTIVE EDUARDO REYES**

Suspect One (POSSIBLE TO LIKELY) – Antonio Benedicto, former security guard. Had MEANS OF ENTRY, MOTIVE and CLOSE PROXIMITY. HISTORY with location and animatronics. (PETERSON'S NOTE: I PERSONALLY DON'T THINK IT'S HIM, DESPITE ALL THE RED FLAGS. HE DOESN'T STRIKE ME AS MALICIOUS, JUST A LITTLE MENTALLY MESSED UP. BUT HE'S DEFINITELY STILL A POSSIBILITY.)

Suspect Two (VERY LIKELY) – Jason Quincey, restaurant owner. Had MEANS OF ENTRY, MOTIVE and CLOSE PROXIMITY. HISTORY with location and animatronics. (PETERSON'S NOTE: THIS GUY IS SLEAZY AND I DON'T TRUST HIM. NEEDS EXTENSIVE QUESTIONING TO BE SURE OF ANYTHING HE SAYS. BUT IS HE A KILLER?)

Suspect Three (UNLIKELY) – Kate Hudson, former security guard. Had MEANS OF ENTRY but no motive or proximity. (PETERSON'S NOTE: EVEN IF I SUSPECTED HER, SHE WOULD ALMOST CERTAINLY HAVE BEEN CAUGHT ON THE NIGHT CAMERAS IF SHE'D DONE ANYTHING SUSPICIOUS, AND TAPES REVEALED NOTHING UNUSUAL BESIDES THE KITCHEN CAMERA OUTAGE AND ODD NOISE.)

Suspect Four (LIKELY) – Karl Borsovich, mechanic. Had STRONG MOTIVE and POSSIBLE PROXIMITY but no clear means of entry. HISTORY with location and animatronics. (PETERSON'S NOTE: I GET MIXED SIGNALS FROM THIS GUY. HE'S A GRIEVING PARENT WITH A GRUDGE, BUT IS HE A MURDERER? I'LL KEEP QUESTIONING HIM TO SEE WHAT ELSE HE'S HIDING.)

Suspect Five (UNLIKELY) – Thea Muldoon, former chef. Had PROXIMITY but no motive or means of entry.

Suspect Six (POSSIBLE BUT PROBABLY UNLIKELY) – Dresden Lockwood, former security guard. Had MEANS OF ENTRY and PROXIMITY but no known motive. Currently not in a mental state to be questioned further.

Suspect Seven (LIKELY OR VERY LIKELY) – Bernard "Ben" Quincey, brother of restaurant owner. Had MEANS OF ENTRY but no clear motive. (PETERSON'S NOTE: I JUST HAVE A BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS GUY. I DON'T KNOW WHY. MAYBE IT'S A HUNCH. WILL QUESTION HIM FURTHER.)

 **B21 – THE PERSONAL DIARY OF DETECTIVE PETERSON, LEAD INVESTIGATOR OF THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[Peterson is at her house early in the morning, purple-eyed and frantic. She adjusts her phone camera and then frantically shows it a thick manila envelope, with no return address.]_

"This came in the mail for me today. Look at this."

 _[She pulls a single sheet of yellow construction paper out of the envelope; it's thick, the kind children might use for drawing with markers. Scrawled across the papaer in red crayon is a simple note. Short and concise, and utterly terrifying.]_

HI JANE.

IT'S ME.


	7. B22, A36, F1

**B22 – THE PERSONAL DIARY OF DETECTIVE PETERSON, LEAD INVESTIGATOR OF THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

"I got one too, Jane." _[Eddie sounds panicked, frantic.]_ "What does it mean? What's he trying to pull?"

"I don't know." _[Jane stares at the two pieces of paper and their sinister crayon scrawlings, trying to decipher the meaning. One was sent to her, the other to Eddie, and neither has a return address.]_ "He's taunting us. Whoever it is, he's playing with our emotions, trying to get a rise out of us. Distracting us from working on the case."

"Well, killers often do things like this. They like to feel powerful, toy with the police so they get to feel like they're outsmarting us. Hell, this sick fuck probably gets off on it." _[Eddie seems to collect himself and calm down.]_ "I already had someone dust it for prints. No luck – he must have worn gloves. I've got someone else looking for fabric fibers and dust particles. Pollen, even, or sweat. We might track down the sender yet."

"But he could have sent it through a proxy, or coerced some poor old lady to drop it in the mail for him. And then we'd be stuck again." _[Jane sighs and puts the threatening letters aside.]_ "I want this guy dead, Eddie."

"You and me both. Who are we interviewing today?"

"I'm doing something different this time. I'm bringing three of our four most likely suspects in at once."

 _[Eddie gapes at her.]_ "Are we allowed to do that?"

"Now we are." _[Jane sighs heavily.]_ "And this is going to be a tough interview, Eddie. Look at those old files I dug up – you'll see what I mean."

 _[He looks at the file, and then moans.]_ "Oh, no. What the hell do you think he's hiding?"

"Whatever it is, it's something bad, so let's get it over with." _[Peterson rises, tucking a clipboard under her arm.]_ "Ready for round two, Eddie?"

 _[Eddie shakes his head bitterly as he follows her.]_ "This won't be fun, Detective."

"I know. But if things go as planned, I think we're about to crack this case wide open."

 **A36 – THE GROUP INTERROGATION OF SUSPECTS ONE, TWO AND FOUR IN THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[Antonio Benedicto, Jason Quincey and Karl Borsovich sit at a circular table, staring warily at each other. Antonio looks visibly disheveled, wearing an old grey sweatshirt and a blue baseball cap; but he is nursing a mug of black coffee and looks more awake than before. Jason Quincey wears a confusing mishmash of branded clothing, with chains on his wrists and a wary smile on his face; but his darting eyes betray his anxiety, and he keeps glancing nervously at the door. The detectives forcibly took Karl's cigarettes away, so he is grumpily fiddling with his sleeve and drumming his fingers on the table, distracting his hands from the urge to reach for a smoke; he doesn't seem to know why he's here, and obviously has no desire to stay long.]_

 _[The door of the interrogation room opens, and Jason Quincey coughs nervously into his sleeve as Jane Peterson and Eduardo Reyes enter and sit down facing their suspects. Jane is the first to speak, surveying them all calmly.]_

"Do you know why I've brought you all in today?"

 _[Antonio speaks, warily.]_ "I've told you everything, Detective. What else do you want?"

"I want the truth, Antonio. In fact, that's what I want from all of you." _[She looks at them calmly.]_ "I brought the three of you in today, out of everyone else we've interviewed, because you three are all hiding one last thing from me."

 _[Karl and Antonio don't react, but Jason goes visibly pale. Jane calmly opens a folder and shows them the contents.]_

"The animatronics were purchased from a company in Ohio, is that right, Quincey?"

"Yes, that's right." _[He clears his throat nervously.]_ "The company paid for them, but I had to cover the shipping. It was part of the franchising deal."

"Did you notice the missing serial numbers?"

"No…" _[He shifts in his chair, swallowing.]_ "I didn't think anything of it. I figured they were just old, and used."

"Did you also notice how inexpensive they were?"

"So what? They were old robots. The company was probably glad to be rid of them."

"It certainly seems that way, because the company documents show that Fazbear Entertainment bought them for less than five dollars."

"Each?"

"Total."

 _[His eyes dart frantically towards the door again.]_ "I don't know what you're implying, Detective, but –"

"Why were they so inexpensive, and so suspiciously scrubbed of their serial numbers and model numbers? Do you want me to tell you, or would you like to inform us instead?"

 _[He sighs, giving in.]_ "Okay. Fine. I knew they were fishy when they arrived, but the company reassured me they were just lightly used. I figured it wasn't a big deal, that they just needed minor repairs."

"So you called a mechanic." _[Jane looks at Karl.]_ "Didn't you?"

 _[Karl closes his eyes, and the heaviness in his voice says it all.]_ "He called me."

"You lied in an interrogation. _Twice."_

"I had to. What was I supposed to say? You already figured out I knew how to open the robots. What, reminding me of my fucking dead daughter wasn't enough, you had to scare me into thinking I would be deported if I said anything else?" _[He gropes desperately in his pocket for his missing cigarettes.]_ "I need a goddamn smoke. Please, Detective, I just need one."

"Tell me about the robots, and you can have your cigarette." _[Peterson waves the box in front of him, and he makes a grab for it; she holds it away.]_ "Talk. What day did you come in to look at them?"

"January 4th. It was snowing, I think. Had to brush off my car before I left."

"It was the day after I bought them." _[Jason tacks this on hastily.]_ "I wanted him to inspect them. See if anything was weird."

"What did you find?" _[Peterson stares at Karl, hawklike.]_ "Describe in detail."

"There was nothing in them. Nothing strange. But they had a little more space inside them than usual, like their machinery had been stretched out. I'd never seen it before."

"Did you wonder why that was?" _[Eddie speaks for the first time.]_ "Why they looked that way?"

"I did, but I didn't ask." _[Karl sighs.]_ "There, you have the truth now. Are you satisfied with yourselves?"

"Maybe not the whole truth." _[Peterson leans forward, looking him right in the eyes.]_ "Be honest with me, Borsovich. Did you really find nothing in those robots?"

"Nothing." _[He looks steadily back at her.]_ "I swear to you, Inspector. I scoured those robots, looking for something to pin on the restaurant that had taken my daughter from me. But I didn't find anything. I promise you that."

"Had you found something, would you have taken it straight to the police?"

"Obviously."

 _[Peterson nods, but still holds back his cigarettes. Now she looks at Jason, who is shaking in his chair.]_ "Now you tell me, Jason Quincey. Why didn't Karl find anything?"

 _[Jason looks on the verge of a panic attack; he is sweating and twitching, staring longingly at the door.]_ "Please don't."

"I know you found something, Jason. You must have, if the files from the old restaurants are any indication. If you don't talk, we will, and that won't end well for you. You're already going to jail for obstruction of justice – don't make me jail you for being an accomplice to murder."

"I –" _[He squeezes his eyes tightly shut.]_ "When the robots first came in, I found it right away. I took it out and hid it in my wall safe before Karl came in, so he wouldn't find it."

 _[Borsovich stares at him blankly; clearly he wasn't aware of this.]_ "Hid what?"

"You motherfucker." _[Antonio looks scandalized.]_ "What are you hiding, you fucking snake? What was in there?"

"I didn't want to tell you! I didn't want to tell anyone. You have to understand –"

"TALK!" _[Peterson's angry roar makes all of them jump, and Jason nearly falls out of his chair in fright.]_ "Or I'll sit here and just add years and years to your sentence. I've already got a couple right here. Want me to put down a few more?"

"I – I found a shoe." _[With badly shaking hands, he takes his cell phone out of his pocket, flicks to a picture, and shows them. It is a child's small tennis shoe, stained with dirt and grease.]_ "It was worked down into Foxy's machinery. I had to pry it out with a wrench."

 _[Borsovich looks at the shoe. And then he utters an agonized sound, a pained half-scream. Peterson's lip quivers, watching as the mechanic buries his face in his hands and sobs. The room is dead silent. They all know whose shoe it is.]_

 _[Finally, wordlessly, Peterson takes a cigarette out of the box and hands it to Borsovich; he takes it in violently shaking hands and lights it, taking a draw. No one speaks as he smokes and cries quietly.]_

 _[It's a long moment before Eddie finally breaks the silence.]_ "We're putting you away for a very long time, Jason Quincey. I hope you know that."

"I know." _[He closes his eyes.]_ "But I didn't kill them. I just wanted the restaurant to succeed, I didn't want it to close and disappoint my parents. You have to believe me – I didn't kill them. I didn't kill her, Karl."

"Tell it to the judge, Quincey." _[Peterson nods at the one-way window, and the door opens to admit two police officers, who snap handcuffs onto Quincey's wrists.]_ "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

"I didn't do it! Please!" _[He shouts and struggles as they lead him out and slam the door. Antonio looks sadly at Karl, whose face is still buried in his hands as he weeps silently. Eddie looks worriedly at Peterson, who sighs and speaks softly, trying to comfort the grief-stricken man.]_

"I didn't know it would be hers, Karl. I knew there was something, but I didn't know it would be that."

"So there were more." _[Antonio looks at Peterson uncertainly.]_ "There were more, a long time ago, and they were hidden in the robots. Just like now."

"Yes, I think so. I think this is the work of a long-term serial killer who stalks Fazbear restaurants, with a very specific modus operandi. We're narrowing in on him, but we still don't have all the information we need." _[Peterson studies Antonio with sudden focus.]_ "Which brings us to you, Antonio. You're the last one I need something out of."

"What do you need? I swear, I told you everything. I didn't know about the shoe, or any of it."

"You did know about one thing, though." _[Peterson stares at him.]_ "I used to wonder why you chose to go back to the place that had hurt you. Something about your explanation just didn't add up to me. So I did a little more digging, and you know what I found?" _[She opens a file.]_ "I found your therapist's recommendation to work there. She thought it would help overcome your trauma, to realize that the restaurant was a safe place."

"It was hardly safe." _[Antonio barks out a laugh.]_ "But she did think it might help. On the contrary. It made it so much worse. I wish I'd never signed that damn contract."

"When did you start seeing this therapist?"

"A couple years ago. I don't remember when exactly. My uncle recommended her to me."

"Has she been helpful to you?"

"Not really, but she tries hard. I'm a tough case." _[He chuckles wearily.]_ "Bit of a broken toy, I suppose."

 _[As they speak, Karl quietly gets up and leaves the room, flicking his cigarette into the garbage. No one says a word; there seems to be an unspoken agreement between them all to let him have his time.]_

"What have you been diagnosed with, officially?"

 _[Antonio eyes Peterson warily.]_ "You're not going to drill me like that other interrogator, are you?"

"No. I won't use this information against you."

"PTSD." _[He looks at the floor.]_ "Chronic insomnia, comorbid. Nightmares. A whole lot of disturbed sleep, basically. And bipolar. That's what most of the meds are for. But I've never hurt anyone, and I mostly only hallucinate at night. I don't hurt people, Detective."

"Were you abused as a child?"

"Yes." _[He seems to have difficulty saying this.]_ "Frequently."

"Did that contribute to your PTSD?"

"Next question."

"Have you really never fallen asleep on the job?"

"Never." _[He says it stubbornly.]_ "I'll admit I was late to work sometimes because I slept in, and Quincey let me hear about it. But I didn't hallucinate or sleep on the job. I swear it."

"I believe you." _[Peterson closes the file.]_ "Thank you for being honest with me, Antonio. You're free to go."

"Really?" _[He looks surprised, relieved.]_ "You won't arrest me?"

"You're innocent. You've told us what you know, even if you concealed a few things here and there. As far as we're concerned, you're no longer under suspicion. Just try to stay away from pizzerias from now on, okay?"

"Thank you, Detective." _[He shakes her hand earnestly.]_ "If you need anything else, if you want to ask any more questions – you just call, okay? Call me, and I'll talk. Honestly."

"I'll keep you in mind, Antonio." _[They watch him leave the room.]_

 _[Only now does Eddie finally speak again; he spent most of the interrogation studying his suspects, trying to read what they're thinking.]_ "Do you really think he's innocent?"

"He's not our man. I'm sure of it." _[Peterson gathers her things.]_ "Come on, Eddie, we're going for a drive."

"Where are we going?"

"The place this all began." _[She leaves, and Eddie follows her, but the tape catches her last, solemn words.]_ "Someplace the world wanted to forget."

 **F1 – THE PERSONAL DIARY OF DETECTIVE REYES, ASSISTANT INVESTIGATOR OF THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[Eddie seems to be recording this from his house. He places the camera on his desk, and as he adjusts the focus we note the newspaper clippings and papers strewn over his desk; clearly he's been focusing all his energy on deciphering this case and tracking down leads. He looks at the camera to make sure it's watching, then nods.]_

"Okay. Look at this."

 _[He shows the camera a manila envelope, just like the one he and Peterson received last time. He slits it open and takes out the construction paper inside, green this time, with blue crayon scrawled across it.]_

 _[This one is much more straightforward.]_

CAN YOU SEE HER?

 _[He sighs.]_ "I'm starting to wonder if this guy isn't even our perp. It might just be some random prankster taking advantage of the situation. I'm almost positive –" _[As he speaks he sets down the paper, and then does a double-take, seeing the photograph taped to the back.]_

 _[He slowly lifts up the photo and stares at it; the camera is not angled to see what it is. He takes a slow breath.]_

"I'm going to kill whoever did this." _[He sets the photo down and stares defiantly at the camera.]_ "No more games. No more tricks. He's dead, and I'll kill him. For Borsovich and his little girl, the kids, the families, everyone."

 _[He wavers, then sighs and buries his face in his hands. Behind him, the door to his office edges open, and a small voice speaks.]_

"Papa?"

"Hi, sweetheart!" _[He sits up at once, fumbling to cover the photograph with his other papers.]_ "Do you need something?"

"I turned on the TV." _[Her lip quivers.]_ "It's scary."

"Oh, honey, I told you not to do that." _[He lifts her into his lap.]_ "Don't worry, sweetie, no one's going to do anything bad to you. Daddy won't let them. I'm working to find the person who did it right now." _[He looks at the camera fiercely, as though daring this killer to try anything against his children.]_ "I'll find him if it's the last thing I do."


	8. D2, B23, F2

**D2 – UNOFFICIAL TIMELINE OF EVENTS IN THE FAZBEAR MURDERS, VERSION #2, CREATED BY LEAD INVESTIGATOR JANE PETERSON AND DETECTIVE EDUARDO REYES**

April 17th, XXXX (THREE YEARS AGO) – KARL BORSOVICH's daughter, CECILIA LAMBERTY-BORSOVICH, is lured outside of a friend's birthday party at FREDDY FAZBEAR'S PIZZA, ILLINOIS LOCATION. She is kidnapped and murdered by an UNKNOWN MASKED KILLER in a PURPLE SWEATSHIRT and BLACK CAR, and hidden in the FOXY animatronic. Her body is removed an unspecified amount of time later (BY WHO?) and was never found. (THERE MUST HAVE BEEN OTHERS… WE NEED TO FIND THEM. CAN WE TALK TO KARL'S EX-WIFE?)

July 5th, XXXX (THREE YEARS AGO) – The police investigation of the "PURPLE MAN" closes, with no witnesses, evidence or suspects. It becomes a cold case and the files are sealed. It has been confirmed that BORSOVICH was a primary suspect due to his poor relationship with his estranged wife, who had custody of CECILIA at the time, but he was cleared of suspicion when he proved he was not in the state at the time. KARL BORSOVICH is furious at the police for "giving up" on his daughter and suspects a cover-up, but his concerns are ignored and the case never reopens. (IS THIS "PURPLE MAN" OUR "FAZBEAR KILLER"?)

August 29th, XXXX (THREE YEARS AGO) – The FOXY animatronic malfunctions in an unspecified way (CAN WE INTERVIEW ANYONE FROM THE ILLINOIS LOCATION ABOUT THIS?) and is retired for "repairs" and later resale.

September 1st, XXXX (THREE YEARS AGO) – The ILLINOIS LOCATION closes due to declining business, likely as a result of the bad publicity and murder(s) that took place there. The animatronics are sold back to the parent company, Fazbear Entertainment, and are put into storage. (WHERE? EDDIE, DO WE HAVE WAREHOUSE RECORDS?)

December 9th – JASON QUINCEY buys a vacant building to build his restaurant. He orders animatronics from a robotics company in Ohio, Joymakers LLC, which in turn orders them from Fazbear Entertainment. Fazbear ships the damaged robots for a mere five dollars, and tells JASON they might be in need of repairs on arrival. JASON consents to the deal, a decision he will later regret.

December 10th – JASON QUINCEY hires a contractor, MELANIE POOLE, to work on the construction and design of the restaurant. (WHO IS THIS CONTRACTOR? WE ONLY HAVE A NAME… EDDIE, TRACK HER DOWN!)

January 3rd – The animatronics are delivered to JASON QUINCEY, and he apparently fails to spot the missing serial numbers and signs of decay and damage. He inspects them for safety, and notices a CHILD'S TENNIS SHOE (EVIDENCE A) lodged in Foxy's machinery. He removes it and hides it in his wall safe before calling a mechanic, KARL BORSOVICH, to inspect the robots for damage. At this point it is unknown if he was aware that the shoe belonged to Karl's murdered daughter, CECILIA, but he insists he did not know this at the time.

January 4th – KARL BORSOVICH arrives and inspects the robots, and finds nothing unusual. JASON QUINCEY does not disclose the discovery of the SHOE for fear of legal action against his restaurant.

January 18th – JASON QUINCEY officially opens his local branch of Freddy Fazbear's pizza and begins hiring employees. The first day is uneventful, and no reported or rumored incidents occur.

January 19th – Recent college graduate DRESDEN LOCKWOOD is hired as DAY AND NIGHT GUARD after a five-minute interview. QUINCEY describes him as "cheerful" and "trustworthy," and notes that he always came in on time, unlike his later employee, ANTONIO. The two become good friends.

January 22nd – Line chef THEA MULDOON is hired for FOOD PREPARATION, and soon becomes irritated at QUINCEY's unwanted advances towards her, but does not have any other jobs lined up and decides to stay until she finds a better option.

February 2nd – INCIDENT C1 occurs.

February 27th – INCIDENT C2 occurs, FOXY malfunction. FOXY is retired for safety reasons.

August 3rd – INCIDENT C3 occurs, BONNIE malfunction. One child injured. QUINCEY agrees to have the animatronics inspected once per month as part of litigation deal, but does not uphold his end of the bargain, worried that more evidence will be found in the inspections and unwilling to call BORSOVICH again.

September 5th – INCIDENT C4 occurs.

September 19th – INCIDENT C5 occurs. Last reported incident before murders begin.

October 1st – DRESDEN is fired as DAY AND NIGHT GUARD for "HYGIENE CONCERNS," but likely because QUINCEY had begun to notice his mental decline and wanted to get rid of him quickly. QUINCEY seeks out two fast hires to fill the void. DRESDEN becomes paranoid and insane, locking himself in his flat. He is later confined to a mental hospital and becomes babbling and incoherent, drawing pictures of the animatronics and describing them as "demons." (WHY?)

October 2nd – College student KATE HUDSON is hired as NIGHT GUARD after a brief interview with JASON QUINCEY. He describes her as "shy" but "very sweet" and kind to the other employees. She seems especially fond of ANTONIO upon his hiring a day later, and ANTONIO mentions that she often took time to listen to his problems and make him coffee.

October 3rd – Unemployed ANTONIO BENEDICTO is hired as DAY GUARD after an interview with QUINCEY, in which he claims he disclosed a good deal of his extensive medical history, but did not disclose the attack on him as a child. He was on six prescribed medications at the time, including an antipsychotic (Prazosin), seizure medication (Klonopin) and two antidepressants (Prozac and Paxil). He frequently took melatonin supplements to help him sleep, which often resulted in him oversleeping and being late to work, a fact that annoyed his manager, QUINCEY.

October 5th – ANTONIO witnesses two unreported incidents where FREDDY stares at a child and behaves strangely, and later hears the child asking FREDDY strange questions that seem related to the discovery. When he asks QUINCEY to explain, the man brushes him off. He resolutely insists he was not dreaming and did not imagine it.

October 17th – ANTONIO is given an informal reprimand for repeatedly showing up late. QUINCEY threatens to fire him if he doesn't get his act together.

November 25th – ANTONIO is fired for lateness and sleeping on the job, accusations he vehemently denies. QUINCEY hands him his last paycheck and points him out the door. ANTONIO leaves and does not return.

December 9th – START OF MURDER WINDOW.

December 13th – JASON QUINCEY lets his brother, BEN QUINCEY, borrow his key to get into the restaurant after hours and retrieve his wallet. Exterior camera footage shows BEN entering the building at exactly 10:02 PM. KATE usually didn't arrive until midnight, so we can presume the building was empty at the time. He was inside for about fifteen minutes before leaving with a leather wallet in his hand at 10:18 PM. Dusting confirms his prints on JASON's wallet, implying he is telling the truth, but he was inside for much longer than he claimed and it is unknown what else he was doing in there, since the NIGHT CAMERAS inside the building were not programmed to turn on until midnight exactly to conserve power.

December 14th – KATE arrives for her usual shift. Around 1:00 AM, she witnesses CHICA moving around at night and banging pans in the kitchen. Terrified, she flees the security office. When she calls QUINCEY to report the strange behavior, he drives over right away. Exterior camera footage shows KATE watching him enter the building at 1:25 AM, to presumably shut down the animatronic; however, his activities during this time are undocumented, as the cameras were malfunctioning for unknown reasons. (ARE WE SURE ABOUT THIS? WE REALLY NEED TO LOOK AT THOSE CAMERAS…) He reemerges at 1:37 AM and fires her on the spot. A nearby jewelry store's security camera catches her leaving in her car, a red Chevy Cruze, and she claims she has not been back to the restaurant since.

December 16th – END OF MURDER WINDOW.

December 17th – HEALTH CODE VIOLATION. Animatronics are reported to smell and leak strange fluid, and parents complain. QUINCEY is ordered to clean the robots, and does. He insists this was not related to the discovery of the bodies and was merely a result of the robots' aging fur covering. When pressed as to whether he opened them for the cleaning, he vehemently denies it, insisting he only cleaned and scrubbed the surface fur and did not know about the bodies hidden inside. (LINKED TO DISCOVERY OF BODIES? IF SO, THIS MIGHT HELP US NARROW WINDOW OF KILLINGS… SMELL SUGGESTS DECOMPOSITION IS OCCURRING)

December 28th – Discovery of the bodies. Mechanic KARL BORSOVICH is called in by QUINCEY to look at, but not open, the robots. He opens them anyway, apparently out of spite and revenge, and discovers the cadavers hidden inside. The restaurant is closed immediately while employees and associates are called in for interrogation and questioning. The employees called in were ANTONIO BENEDICTO, JASON QUINCEY, KATE HUDSON and KARL BORSOVICH, in that order. THEA MULDOON was questioned at a later date.

December 30th – Coroner releases autopsy report. Bodies are between two and three weeks old and bled out from multiple stab wounds to the torso. Badly damaged from animatronic parts and gears. This places our MURDER WINDOW between DECEMBER 9th and DECEMBER 16th. During this time, BEN and JASON were in the restaurant after hours and their activities were not caught on camera; KATE was still an employee but ANTONIO was not, and KATE's nightly activities were almost entirely caught on camera, including lunch breaks and bathroom breaks; and BORSOVICH had not yet been called in, having only visited once several months prior. However, BORSOVICH had a strong motive to get revenge on the company where his daughter was murdered and extensive knowledge of the robots from his earlier inspection. It is also possible that ANTONIO made a copy of their work keys to get back in the building after his firing.

Final verdict: Still uncertain, but we're getting closer to our killer. THEA MULDOON and KATE HUDSON have been almost fully cleared of suspicion, and we have no need to question them further. KARL BORSOVICH is highly unlikely, but still possible. ANTONIO BENEDICTO is also still possible, but something tells me he's not our man. JASON QUINCEY was arrested for hiding evidence and obstructing justice, and is still not off the table as our killer; nor is his brother, BEN QUINCEY, who was in the restaurant during our murder window with no record of his activities. I'm not entirely convinced the murders occurred at the restaurant; perhaps they were killed in another location and then brought there to hide them, although how that was done without being caught on external cameras is a complete mystery.

 **B23 – THE PERSONAL DIARY OF DETECTIVE PETERSON, LEAD INVESTIGATOR OF THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[Peterson is in the driver's seat of her car, her father's old grey pickup truck, with Eddie in the passenger seat flicking through crime scene photos on his phone. The camera sits perched on the console as Peterson navigates traffic and contemplates the strange new details of the case aloud.]_

"Okay, we've got our new timeline. But I'm still not sure how the killer got the bodies into the restaurant, let alone got inside in the first place – they must have been an employee, I'm almost positive of that now. Now that we have all this external camera footage, I'm sure something would have been caught if a shady guy been dragging loaded-up tarps around the parking lot." _[Peterson turns into a darkened parking lot.]_ "We have to dig deeper. We're still missing something. There's some vital piece we haven't found yet, some crucial clue that solves everything."

"Exactly." _[Eddie pockets his phone.]_ "Maybe there's some kind of secret entrance? A back door where the cameras didn't reach, and only employees would know about?"

"That's why we're here." _[Peterson stops the car and picks up the camera from the console, and we see that they have parked in front of Jason Quincey's franchise location of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, now shuttered and dark as the investigation progresses.]_ "Come on, Eddie. We're paying this hellhole a visit."

"I hope you have your gun." _[Eddie hops out and watches as she exits the car and unlocks the door with Jason's key.]_ "I'd rather not get jumped by a fuzzy murder-bunny while we're poking around."

"Don't worry, the animatronics were removed for the investigation. They're not here." _[Peterson opens the door, and they step together into the darkened restaurant; Eddie turns on his flashlight, and it illuminates the checkered floor and eerily silent exterior of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. It is dead quiet, and there are still party hats and colorful plates on the tables; the stage is empty, but looms ominously over the scene, casting huge shadows across the floor.]_

 _[Eddie shivers and makes the Sign of the Cross, as though to ward off the demons of this place.]_ "I don't like it here, Jane."

"We won't be here long." _[She checks her watch; it's 11:49 PM.]_ "There's just something I need to see."

 _[Eddie looks nervously at the empty stage.]_ "You don't really think this place is haunted, do you?"

"Of course not. We've talked about this. Real people are dead – this is no time for ghosts and conspiracy theories." _[Peterson turns on her own flashlight and shines it down a hallway.]_ "The security office is this way. Come on."

"Why are we going there?" _[Eddie follows her down the hall warily, still shooting fearful looks around.]_ "Kate was the last one in there."

"I want to see the cameras. They kept malfunctioning at important times in our murder window, and that makes me suspicious. Maybe it wasn't a malfunction at all." _[Peterson tries to open the security door, then frowns.]_ "That's weird."

"What?"

"The door is locked." _[She tries to peer through the grimy window; she can just barely make out the office inside, through a haze of grease and cobwebs. The desk is covered in old food wrappers, with a lone computer that looks like it was made in the eighties. No one is visible inside.]_ "Why the hell would it be locked?"

"I don't know. At least we have a key, right?"

"Slight problem with that. Quincey told me that the security doors can only be opened from the inside after hours, as a security measure. We'll have to go cut the power in the back room to open them."

 _[Eddie gapes at her, horrified.]_ "You want to _cut the power?_ "

"It's already pitch black in here. It's not like it can get any darker. Besides, these doors are the only thing on."

"As far as we know." _[Eddie shivers again, but keeps his nerve; he visibly steels himself and follows Peterson down the hall and out into the party room. He keeps one hand on his gun, almost unconsciously.]_ "I can see why Antonio doesn't like this place. It makes you feel things."

"Don't go crazy on me, Eddie. I need you sharp."

"I'm fine." _[He takes his hand off the gun, forcing himself to stay calm.]_ "Just a little unnerved."

"I'll agree that this place isn't a picnic." _[Peterson approaches the back room door and reaches for the doorknob, then frowns.]_ "Strange."

"What?"

"It's already open." _[Bewildered, Peterson slowly edges the door open.]_

 _[The light from their flashlights illuminates the crumpled body on the floor, stuffed into a Freddy Fazbear suit and oozing blood. Jason Quincey's sightless eyes stare up at them, his mouth agape in a silent scream.]_

 _[Eddie claps a hand over his mouth, eyes huge with horror.]_ "Holy shit. Holy shit. Quincey –"

"Shh." _[Peterson's eyes dart over everything, taking in the scene.]_ "He wanted us to see this. He's here. Or he was."

 _[Eddie slowly reaches into his pocket.]_ "Jane –"

"What?"

"This is the photograph I got in the mail. Look." _[His hands shaking, he hands her the picture that was sent to him. Peterson's eyes widen as she takes in the slumped cadaver stuffed into a Freddy suit, a crime scene photograph from three years ago. It's the exact same pose the killer has forced Quincey into.]_ "He's reenacting the old murders from three years ago. He sent me this picture to show me."

 _[Peterson looks at it for a long time, then pockets the photograph.]_ "Sick bastard." _[She slowly steps into the room, careful to step around drops of blood; Eddie stays in the doorway, shaking badly, as she kneels down beside Quincey's mangled body. There is something lying on the floor next to him. She lifts it up into the light, slowly, for Eddie to see.]_

 _[A single child's tennis shoe.]_

 _[Eddie exhales slowly.]_ "You don't think –"

"The perfect crime." _[Peterson stares at the shoe, her expression unreadable.]_ "A father whose daughter was murdered, desperate with grief, kills more children in some twisted attempt to get her back, over the span of three years. Then, when he finds out Quincey hid a piece of evidence and helped the original killer get away, he stabs Quincey in a fit of rage and leaves him to bleed out in a robot suit, the way his daughter died all those years ago. He even leaves the shoe next to him as a memento, a reminder of his crime for Quincey to stare at as he dies."

"You think it was him."

"No." _[She puts the shoe back down.]_ "He's being framed. It's too perfect – he's a vulnerable, emotionally damaged target with too much against him, just like Antonio, and who better to pin a murder on? But we have to take him in anyway, in case I'm wrong. There's too much evidence against him to let him go now."

"If it wasn't him, then who was it? How are we going to prove he's innocent when it looks this bad? Our other number one suspect was just murdered. All we have left now are Antonio and Ben, and we don't have enough to pin it on either of them, other than opportunity and means. Karl is the clear outlier –"

"It wasn't him." _[Peterson rises and takes out her phone.]_ "I know it."

"How the hell do you know?"

"Deduction, Eddie. Even if he somehow swiped a key to the restaurant, which I highly doubt, how would he have known that the fuse box was located in the back room, and that the doors of the security office are programmed to open when that power is cut? How would he have set this all up before we got here and driven away without the cameras outside spotting his car? Something tells me he would be pretty damn hard to miss – I don't know if you noticed, but the guy drives a Royce."

"I don't know. He did say he studied the Illinois place –"

"But not this place. Only a security guard would have known how the doors and power worked in this location, and Quincey himself. And now Quincey's dead."

 _[Eddie frowns.]_ "Are you saying Antonio's the killer?"

"No. He wasn't the night guard. But guess who was?"

 _[His eyes widen.]_ "You can't be serious. Are you suggesting Kate Hudson did all of this?"

"I don't think she's a killer. But I do think she knows a lot more than we realized, and we let her go. We removed her from suspicion too early." _[Peterson dials rapidly on her phone.]_ "We need to track her down, and we need to get our team on this new crime scene. And we have to get Borsovich in for another round of questioning. Eddie, can you arrange that?"

"On it." _[He taps a number on his own phone.]_ "I'll call in Thea Muldoon, too. She had a known grudge against Quincey for harassing her."

"Seems like everyone had a grudge against Quincey, but that might be a good idea. Get her in for a clearer statement on her whereabouts during the murder window." _[Peterson leaves the back room with her phone pressed to her ear, calling in a team to take care of Quincey. Eddie lingers in the doorway, staring at the cadaver for a while longer; he sighs.]_ "Damn you, Quincey. I didn't like you, but you didn't deserve to die."

 _[He leaves to follow Peterson out, and shuts the door, drenching the room in darkness.]_

 **F2 – THE PERSONAL DIARY OF DETECTIVE REYES, ASSISTANT INVESTIGATOR OF THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[Eddie is holding the camera down at himself, lying in bed; it's clear that he hasn't slept well, and his eyes are ringed with purple. He sighs and massages his temple with his knuckles.]_

"I can't sleep. Keep having nightmares about that damn Quincey murder. If this sick fuck is reenacting his old hits, then there's three more deaths to go. I wonder who else is on his list."

 _[He stills, and we hear blankets shifting; whoever he is sleeping next to just turned over. After a moment's pause, he speaks again, whispering now.]_

"I got another photograph in the mail. Bonnie this time. Whoever's next, I'd bet anything they'll be in a bunny suit."

 _[He closes his eyes.]_

"The message said, DO YOU LIKE MY GAME?"


	9. A37, G1, B24

**A37 – THE INTERROGATION OF SUSPECT THREE IN THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[Peterson stares down Kate Hudson, who looks nervously back at her, evidently confused as to why she's here.]_ "You haven't been honest with me, Hudson. That seems to be a pattern in this case – people lying to me."

"I thought I was cleared, Detective." _[She tugs anxiously at the neck of her sweatshirt.]_ "Is there something more you need from me?"

"Did you tell anyone how the doors of the restaurant worked? How the power worked?"

"I don't know what you mean –"

"Tell me, Hudson. Did you give someone a key? Did you show them how to get into the security office? Either you tell me honestly or I'll keep you here overnight and make you tell me _absolutely everything_ you've done over the past two months, with nothing left out. And trust me when I say that neither of us want that."

 _[She bites her lip.]_ "Detective, I need to ask you something."

"Okay."

"If I tell you something – if I'm honest, and I tell you that maybe it involves me doing a minor crime, nothing major, but still a crime… will you arrest me? Will I get in trouble?"

"I'll make you a deal. If you're straight with me, nothing you say will leave this room unless it's directly relevant to the case. I only want to know who you've been talking to, not why. You're more valuable to me as a talking witness than a miserable jailbird."

"Okay." _[She takes a slow breath.]_ "You know I'm at a tough college."

"Yes, we've established that."

"Well, sometimes, before tests, I… I get some… help."

 _[Peterson frowns.]_ "What kind of help?"

"I, uh… I take some things…"

"Ah." _[Peterson sighs, understanding.]_ "Adderall."

"Adderall." _[She looks at the detective sheepishly.]_ "I… I have a dealer. He gets me the drugs for my exams, I pay him, we say nothing. We've had an arrangement for a couple months now."

"What's your dealer's name?"

"Ben Quincey." _[She winces.]_ "I – I think maybe his brother is the one who –"

"Shit." _[Peterson writes rapidly on her notepad.]_ "So his joke about drugs was real. Tell me, Hudson, tell me honestly – were you at the restaurant on the night of December 13th, when he came to supposedly pick up Jason's wallet?"

"Yes, I was there. He didn't pick up the wallet, he stole it and made Jason think he lost it, so we could have a cover story and he could get a key. I met him at the restaurant two hours before I was supposed to come for work – he showed me a back entrance where there were no cameras."

"Hudson, you might have just solved this case for me. But go on."

"We met there, I paid him, he gave me my drugs. Then I figured we would leave – truth be told, I was confused why he wanted to meet there in the first place – but he grabbed my arm and told me he wanted me to do one more thing for him. He made me swear not to tell anyone. Threatened to expose my drug habit if I didn't do what he said."

"What did you do?"

"He made me show him how the doors and cameras worked."

"Oh, fuck." _[Peterson closes her eyes as it all clicks together.]_ "Kate, why didn't you say any of this before?"

"You know why! I didn't want anyone to know I do speed. I have grant money, I have a research position – what would my boss say, my professors? What would my parents say? They'd disown me."

"You're lucky I keep my promises. We'll talk about your habit later. What happened next?"

"I left out the back entrance. He went out the front way so the cameras would catch him, holding the wallet. He had it all planned out."

"I imagine he did." _[Peterson is writing so fast her pen is in danger of breaking.]_ "So you took your drugs home to hide them, and then came back for work."

"Yes, that's right."

"Hudson, you've helped me more than you know." _[She shuts the notebook and rises from the table.]_ "We'll be in touch. Don't leave town."

"Yes, Detective. I'll be around if you need me." _[Hudson fidgets nervously.]_ "Just – just don't tell anyone about the drugs, okay?"

"I won't. You have my word. Call me later and we'll talk about it, okay? In exchange for me keeping your secret, you need to let me help you get off those drugs." _[Peterson gathers up her supplies.]_ "But first I've got to find Eddie. We have a Quincey to visit – oh!" _[The Czech interrogator has just entered the room.]_ "Good, it's you. Listen, Eddie needs to hear this. We need to talk to Ben Quincey right now –"

"Too late." _[The man's face is grim.]_ "We have another problem on our hands."

 **G1 – ?**

 _[A very old tape clicks into motion, and we hear a grainy voice, distorted by a synthesizer and impossible to identify. There is no picture yet, but the screen shivers as though expecting one to appear.]_

"Hello, Jane Peterson."

 _[There is a slow, hoarse laugh.]_

"Do you want to see what I've done?"

 _[He laughs louder.]_

"You see, Quincey was just an appetizer. A little present I left for you. But tonight is when I start the real feast."

 _[He snickers.]_

"I'm laughing, Detective Peterson, because I know something you don't."

 _[His voice takes on a cold, mocking edge.]_

"Do you want to see it?"

 _[Slowly, the picture shivers into view.]_

 _[It is a black-and-white security camera, the kind that a certain pizzeria once employed. It is focused on a shabby-looking room in an unknown location. And standing in the center of the camera is a man wearing a Freddy Fazbear mask and holding a knife in his hand, but even with his features concealed we know there is a mocking smile on his face.]_

"Look what I've done, Detective."

 _[He steps back so the camera can see his two hostages, tied to folding chairs and struggling frantically. Karl Borsovich, badly beaten with a sock stuffed in his mouth; and Antonio Benedicto, with a black eye and a face covered in duct tape. There is murder in Borsovich's eyes as he fights madly against his restraints, but to no avail.]_

 _[The masked man laughs coldly.]_

"I've prepared a little game for you, Peterson."

 _[Antonio tries to shout, but it's muffled by the duct tape. The killer ignores him.]_

"You get to pick my second kill. Which one will you choose?"

 _[He places the knife against Borsovich's throat, and the mechanic goes still, eyes wide in panic.]_

"This one?"

 _[He moves it to Antonio's chin.]_

"Or this one?"

 _[His smirk under the mask almost touches his ears.]_

"You have one hour to choose. Or I'll kill them both. And where's the fun in that?"

 _[He snickers like a naughty child.]_

"One hour, Jane Peterson. Choose wisely."

 _[The tape rolls to a stop.]_

 **B24 – THE PERSONAL DIARY OF DETECTIVE PETERSON, LEAD INVESTIGATOR OF THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[Jane sits with her face in her hands, motionless; she doesn't move, but we can almost see her mind reeling. Eddie sits beside her, his hand on her shoulder and dread in his eyes. Clearly neither of them expected the murderer to make such a drastic move. Chief Davidson is conversing frantically with the other officers as they try to analyze the footage, come up with a plan.]_

"The tape arrived a few minutes ago." _[Officer Ramirez drums his fingers on his desk.]_ "It had a phone number written on it, presumably for us to call with our choice. It also noted the time of arrival, 4:00 PM on the dot – somehow he knew exactly when it would get here. That means our hour started eight minutes ago. We have fifty-two minutes to find where that camera is and send a SWAT team to get them out of there. But where the hell do we start?"

"That room had almost no details." _[Peterson looks up, recovering her resolve.]_ "Plaster walls, wooden floors. He chose it on purpose, so it'd be hard to find. It looked old, but that's hardly anything to go on. We could look for old buildings that had a connection to Fazbear murders –"

"What about the old pizzeria?" _[Eddie frowns, the gears in his mind turning.]_ "The place you and I found Quincey. He obviously would have a connection to it, and if it's really Ben Quincey, he still has the master key to get in."

"But no rooms in the restaurant looked like that room. We toured the whole place, and didn't see anything like it. And the blueprints Jason gave us before he died didn't show any hidden areas."

"On the bright side, at least we know Borsovich and Antonio are innocent." _[Officer Ramirez tries vainly to lighten the mood, and Peterson glares at him; he backpedals hastily.]_ "Sorry, sorry. Bad time for a joke."

 _[Eddie's brow knits as he considers their situation.]_ "We could call the number, and just keep him talking. Maybe we can get him to mess up and accidentally give us some information."

"Or we'll get him angry and he'll kill them both." _[Peterson sighs.]_ "We'll use that as a last resort."

"I hate to be the asshole in the room." _[Ramirez looks at Peterson meaningfully.]_ "But if we can't track them down, and we're down to the wire… we can flip a coin."

 _[Peterson gives him a scandalized look.]_ "I'm not gambling on human lives."

"Better one live, at least."

"And let the other be crippled by survivor's guilt? I don't think so."

 _[Ramirez relents.]_ "True."

"They might both be dead already, knowing this perp." _[Eddie massages his forehead, sighing.]_ "I say we take our only chance and go back to the pizzeria with Jason's master key. We'll use the back entrance, so the killer doesn't spot us on the outside cameras. We'll try to find the hidden room before it's too late."

"Do we have time?" _[Peterson looks at Ramirez, who taps his watch.]_

"We've got forty-eight minutes now. It's a two-minute drive."

"It's our best shot." _[Eddie nods.]_ "I say we go. Jane, are you coming?"

 _[Peterson deliberates for a moment, then sighs.]_ "Okay. It's our best shot. Let's get to the car and track this asshole down."

 _[They rush out of the station with keys in hand, Officer Ramirez following close behind them. The Chief watches them go, then looks at the other officers gravely.]_

"God be with us tonight, gentlemen."


	10. B25, G2, B26

**B25 – THE PERSONAL DIARY OF DETECTIVE PETERSON, LEAD INVESTIGATOR OF THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[Peterson's grey pickup truck is full of people. She is driving and pondering their strategy aloud, with Eduardo tapping frantically on his phone in the passenger seat; in the back row, Officer Ramirez, a huge bull of a man who's seen plenty of action in his day, is crammed alongside the slight, dark-haired Officer Williams, who looks a bit inexperienced and nervous. This is only his third or fourth real mission since the academy, and he's clearly hoping Peterson and Reyes have a plan.]_

 _[Peterson speaks as she checks her GPS.]_ "We're going to work under the assumption that if our killer is in the building, he knows about the back entrance, and he knows how to work the interior and exterior cameras. He'll see us if we pull up at either entrance – and that's if we don't call in the SWAT team."

"How do we get in, then?" _[This from Williams, who glances uncertainly between Peterson and Reyes.]_ "If he sees us coming, he'll kill the hostages and flee the building."

"And then we're in all kinds of hot water." _[Ramirez snaps bullets into his gun.]_ "We need to get in without him seeing us. Period."

"Exactly. So we need to find a way in without the cameras picking us up, and we need to get through the building and find the hostage room unseen. How do we do that?" _[Peterson looks around the truck.]_ "Any ideas?"

 _[There's a brief silence. Williams looks nervously at Eduardo, then speaks, hesitantly.]_ "I might have an idea."

"Okay, let's hear it." _[Peterson glances back at him.]_ "What's your plan?"

"You know about the loop trick, right?"

 _[Peterson nods.]_ "I've seen it before. A perp will hack into a camera feed and make it loop the same empty feed, so everything looks normal to whoever's watching. It's called a dummy feed. The only way to spot the loop is to look closely at the timestamp."

"I was a server technician before I was a cop." _[Williams smiles tentatively.]_ "I might be able to pull something like that off."

"But how do we hack into the Fazbear cameras? They've got to be decades old." _[Eduardo tilts his head, considering.]_ "It's a good idea, I'll grant you, but there's no way we can pull it off remotely, unless we have physical access to the camera rig or it's connected to an unsecured network."

"If they've got them on a vulnerable network, I can get in. But I'd need a good computer and some time." _[Williams looks between them hopefully.]_ "Did anyone bring an Asus with them?"

"It's no beast, but I've got mine." _[Peterson rummages under the seat, emerging with her computer bag. She pulls out an old Mac and hands it to him.]_ "Go nuts. The passcode is 4391."

"Perfect." _[Williams starts typing rapidly as Peterson parks the truck in front of a nearby restaurant; they can see Freddy Fazbear's Pizza across the street, darkened and shuttered, as always. But this time there might be a killer inside.]_ "Okay, searching for nearby networks…"

"How much time do we have?" _[Peterson checks her watch.]_ "Okay, we've got forty-five minutes. Pick up the pace, everyone – we've got two people to save."

"Plus we don't know how wide his surveillance net is." _[Eduardo looks at Ramirez.]_ "So if we're going to loiter in this parking lot, we have to seem natural. Can you go get us some food?"

"Copy that, Detective." _[Ramirez unstraps his bulletproof vest and strips down to civilian clothes, then hops out of the truck to get some food. Meanwhile, Williams is muttering to himself and clicking furiously.]_

 _[Peterson checks her watch again after a while.]_ "Forty-two minutes. Tell me you've got something, Williams."

"I'm in the network. Okay, now to set up some dead feeds…" _[Williams clicks a few times, focusing intensely.]_ "I don't see anyone inside the building, so the room he's in must not have cameras. I'll only dummy out the parking lot camera. If I fake out too many, he'll notice."

"So once we're in the building, he's sure to see us. How are we going to get to the hostage room? We don't even know where it is." _[Eduardo looks worriedly at Peterson as Ramirez clambers back into the car, carrying bags of burgers and fries.]_ "Unless you dug up some building plans?"

"I did, but there's no mention of any secret room. And I couldn't track down any architects or engineers who knew about one. But Antonio did mention there was a room that the staff weren't allowed to go in, and the robots were programmed to avoid. It's in the northeast part of the building, behind a locked door." _[Peterson motions to the master key ring on her belt.]_ "And guess who has Quincey's keys?"

"Okay, so we'll assume that's the safe room we're looking for." _[Eduardo nods.]_ "But we still have to get in. Williams, are you sure you can't dummy out the interior cameras?"

"I can, but it'll be really obvious…"

"At this point we're desperate. Do it."

"Okay." _[Williams clicks a few times.]_ "Done. I've got everything on a ten-second loop. If he looks for too long he'll see it, but as long as we get in quickly –"

"On it." _[Peterson steps on the gas, and the truck clatters out of the parking lot.]_ "Is everyone ready? Do we know the plan? No one make noise, and if you see him, shoot his ass."

"Got it." _[Ramirez snaps the safety off on his gun.]_ "Let's go."

 **G2 – ?**

 _[Antonio watches fearfully as the killer studies his camera feeds, laughing softly. He looks at his hostages, smirking under the mask.]_ "They're not here yet. How disappointing." _[He walks over and rips the duct tape off Antonio's mouth; he yelps in pain.]_ "But then again, it gives us time to have a nice chat, doesn't it?"

"Who are you?" _[Antonio tries to be brave, even though he nearly pissed himself watching the killer record his ultimatum. One hour, two hostages, and after that hour's up… How the hell did he get into this mess? He looks frantically at Karl, who is stewing in silent rage, eyes burning as he struggles against his restraints; he's fighting the ropes so violently that they're tearing into his skin and drawing blood.]_

 _[The killer, however, ignores Karl completely. Instead he touches the knife to Antonio's throat, tracing the bite scars.]_ "I think I know where these came from."

"You didn't answer me."

"And I don't intend to." _[The killer taps the knife gently against his neck.]_ "Do you want to die, Antonio Benedicto?"

 _[Antonio swallows, his heart thundering in terror.]_ "No."

"Of course not. No one wants to die, do they? Not even you, who has died twice." _[He presses the point a little harder, and a bead of blood dribbles down; Antonio tries not to panic as his neck stings with pain. He knows that if he twitches or tries to move away, it'll sever an artery, and then Peterson won't have to worry about playing games anymore.]_ "The first time was at your fifth birthday, and the second… well, we both know about that, don't we?"

"N-no…" _[The knife is icy cold on his throat.]_ "How could you possibly know that?"

"I know everything, Antonio." _[The killer gently runs the knife down Antonio's neck, tracing the veins and nerves as though studying a masterpiece.]_ "Perhaps you remember the animatronic who bit you?"

 _[Antonio's heart jumps in his chest.]_ "I don't want to remember."

"What if I told you I knew where it was now?"

"They destroyed it." _[He closes his eyes, praying that however he dies tonight, it will at least be quick.]_ "You're lying."

"Am I?" _[The killer chuckles darkly.]_ "The people we once worked for – they have a way of burying things, rather than burning them. When fire was the answer all along." _[He smirks at Antonio knowingly.]_ "Would you like to see your old friends?"

"No."

"How unfortunate for you." _[The killer takes the knife away, and looks at his camera feeds, smiling as he watches his feeds start to loop in on themselves. It seems that someone has set up a little game of their own.]_ "If all goes well with our friends tonight, you might just get your reunion."

 **B26 – THE PERSONAL DIARY OF DETECTIVE PETERSON, LEAD INVESTIGATOR OF THE FAZBEAR MURDERS**

 _[The truck swings slowly into the Fazbear's parking lot, the sunset gleaming off the silver paint. They park in the back of the lot, as far away from the dummied camera as they can, and hop out, readying their gear and weapons.]_ "Are we ready, team?"

"Copy." _[Ramirez readies his sidearm, and Reyes stands beside him and Williams, watching as Peterson unlocks the front door and pushes it cautiously open.]_

 _[The restaurant is dark and empty, as before; they all slip inside as quietly as possible, shutting the door silently behind them. Peterson leads them softly towards the safe room, eyeing anything that moves; it is perfectly still and silent, nothing shifting except the sunbeams. The whole building feels cold and eerie, like a dead thing.]_

 _[She approaches the safe room door, looks at her team. They quickly press themselves against the wall by the door, ready to burst in when she opens it. This is it.]_

 _[But when she touches the handle, a laugh rings from the speakers on the walls.]_

"You didn't follow the rules, Detective."

 _[All of them whirl, aiming frantically around. Peterson cocks her gun and shouts into the restaurant.]_

"Where are the hostages?"

"I've made a new game for you, since you didn't seem to like the first one. Aren't I generous?" _[The voice chuckles eerily through the speakers.]_ "You're lucky I'm in a good mood. Why don't you open that door?"

 _[The officers look at each other warily, knowing that the only way to save their hostages is to play along. Then, cautiously, Peterson unlocks the door and pushes it open.]_

 _[The light falls across a slumped animatronic suit, lying on the floor. At first it looks like Bonnie, but then Peterson realizes it's older, torn and shredded, and a rotten golden color; and there are human eyes in the sockets, staring fearfully back at them. It's Antonio, trapped in the suit.]_

 _[The speakers crackle with laughter.]_ "Do you recognize that, Detective?"

"Antonio, don't move." _[Peterson lowers her gun, moving slowly towards him.]_ "Breathe slowly. Don't panic. If you move, the gears in that suit will spring loose."

"Oh, so you know how this works." _[The killer snickers.]_ "Let's play another game, Detective. Try and get your friend out of the suit… without killing him."

 _[Antonio stares at Peterson, eyes huge with terror, as she kneels down in front of him. She sets her gun on the ground, then reaches for the head of the suit.]_ "Antonio, whatever you do, don't move. No sudden movements. You're going to be fine, okay? Just relax."

"Detective." _[He whispers fearfully.]_ "Detective –"

"Shh. Don't talk. Your breath will moisten the mechanism." _[Peterson carefully probes the suit's headpiece, searching for the latches. Her hands find the snaps, and she pops it off; everyone exhales in relief as she sets the head aside.]_ "Okay, we're almost there."

"Detective." _[Antonio sounds like he's on the verge of tears.]_ "Listen –"

"Not now. Just relax." _[She carefully starts undoing the latches on the back of the suit.]_ "Breathe slowly, and stay as calm as you can. Don't squirm."

"You have to listen to me." _[He grits his teeth as Peterson carefully works at the buttons and snaps, trying not to activate the gears.]_ "I couldn't remember why I knew the name. Joymakers LLC."

"The company that made the animatronics." _[Eduardo frowns.]_ "They were the ones who shipped the robots to Quincey, and helped cover up the first murders. How do you know that place?"

"I forgot all about it. But I just remembered." _[Antonio closes his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to relax.]_ "My stepfather, Tony. He used to work there. He used to work for Joymakers, selling animatronics."

"What?" _[Peterson looks at him, startled.]_ "You never mentioned him in your interviews. Do you think he's involved with all this?"

"I don't know, but –"

 _[There is a loud snapping sound, and Antonio screams. The springlocks in the suit's right leg have just come loose, and blood blooms through the matted fur, soaking into the floorboards. Antonio cries out in pain, and Peterson yells in frustration.]_ "Shit!"

"Get him out of there!" _[Eduardo rushes to help.]_ "Quickly!"

 _[Together they rip open the last snaps and pull the suit away. Antonio sags against the wall weakly as Peterson starts binding his leg]_ "Eddie, we need to get him out of here. Can you carry him?"

 _[The voice over the speakers chuckles ominously.]_ "Now when did I say I was going to let you leave? You've only won the first game, and I have so many more to go."

"We're done playing your sick games!" _[Eduardo shouts up at the speakers.]_ "What have you done with Borsovich? Where are you hiding?"

 _[The killer laughs softly.]_ "You're not alone in this restaurant, Detectives. Haven't you noticed?"

 _[They all look frantically around as Peterson tends to Antonio, and then, suddenly realizing what the killer is talking about, Eduardo exhales.]_ "Oh, God."

"What?" _[Williams looks fearfully around.]_ "Where is he?"

"Not him." _[Eduardo shakily motions to Williams.]_ "Show me those camera feeds on your laptop again. We walked right into his trap."

 _[Williams pulls up the party room feed as Eduardo and Ramirez cluster around him. And now they all see what the killer has done.]_

 _[The animatronics stand where they stood not so long ago, as though they never left. Freddy, Bonnie and Chica on their stage, holding their instruments. And the curtain over Pirate's Cove where Foxy lurks in the shadows.]_

 _[The killer chuckles, the sound eerily distorted and rolling through the speakers like thunder.]_ "Are you ready to play a game, Detectives?"

 _[Ramirez grits his teeth.]_ "The SWAT team will come if we don't get back to base soon. You can't trap us here for long."

"Oh, but I already have. All you have to do is survive until morning. You can do that, can't you? But you'll have to be careful… or you'll end up like the last one who played this game. Our poor little Dresden Lockwood."

 _[Eduardo groans.]_ "You sick motherfucker."

"Win, and I'll let you all go free. But if you lose…" _[He snickers with malicious glee.]_ "It'll be the end for all of you. Every single one."

 _[Williams's eyes widen.]_ "Oh, Jesus."

"Don't panic. The team will be coming for us soon." _[Peterson is determined not to lose her cool, to maintain her composure for the other officers' sake.]_ "We just need to survive until then."

"But how?" _[Eduardo is starting to freak out.]_ "Jane, we're sitting ducks. They'll hunt us down, and Antonio can't walk –"

"We'll hole up in the security office. Those doors can be shut and locked – we'll be safe from the animatronics in there, at least. Ramirez, you carry Antonio. Eduardo, give me a light."

"Copy that." _[Eduardo steadies himself and turns on a flashlight.]_ "Lead the way, Detective."

 _[They head out into the hallway, walking quickly through the party room so as not to look at the animatronics onstage; but Antonio's gaze wanders over anyway, and he stares at the robots who have so haunted his childhood, knowing all too well what they're capable of.]_ "They're stronger than they look, Detective. They can break bones. We can't let them catch us."

"I know." _[Peterson reaches the security door first, and herds them all into the cramped office, then shuts the doors to lock them inside. It's a tight fit with Peterson, Eduardo, Ramirez, Williams and Antonio all sharing a space designed for two people at most. Ramirez carefully lays Antonio down on the floor; meanwhile, Williams sets his laptop down on the desk so they can watch the cameras, and Peterson peers at it critically, watching for movements and listening for sounds.]_ "If he wants us to play his game, then so be it. We'll have to follow his rules. Watch the feeds, use the lights and flashlights, shut the doors if something gets too close."

"Where do you think he's keeping Borsovich? He must be in the building somewhere." _[Ramirez frowns.]_ "Antonio, did you see where he took him?"

"No. He just put me in the suit, then dragged Karl off and shut the door. I didn't see where he went." _[Antonio grimaces as Ramirez binds his mangled leg tightly, securing it to stop the bleeding.]_ "I'm not going to die, am I?"

"No, as long as we get you to a hospital after this. But it might leave a mark." _[Ramirez finishes bandaging the wound, then takes his own coat off and wraps it around his leg for good measure.]_ "Don't move too much, or it'll start bleeding again. We'll keep you in here for now."

 _[Antonio chuckles wearily.]_ "Adding to my Fazbear scar collection, I suppose."

"We need to focus." _[Peterson sits down in front of the camera feed.]_ "I'll watch for movement. Eduardo, you keep an eye on the security hallways, and shut the doors if you see anything. Ramirez, keep an eye on Antonio. And Williams, you stay by me and help me with the computer."

 _[The officers rush to their assigned jobs, and Peterson lets out a slow breath, calming herself down. She's matched wits with killers before, and this is no different. She can win his games, however twisted and scheming they might be, and save Antonio and Borsovich in the process. She can only hope the team will arrive to save them, before it's too late.]_

 _[She steadies herself, and then leans forward, and the game begins.]_


End file.
